


Don't Let Him Know You Love Him

by dracomalfyaoi



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, Confessions of love, Forbidden Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medieval AU, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, Unrequited Love, Work In Progress, except not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-04
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-05-23 17:42:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 41,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6124874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracomalfyaoi/pseuds/dracomalfyaoi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Prince's Royal guard, Dirk is forbidden from touching, or speaking to the nobility he has pledged his life to protect. But the devotion required for such a job doesn't come without an oath that surpasses that of the army.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Don't talk to him.

Don't touch him. 

Don't let him know you love him. 

 

These three rules dominated Dirk Strider's life. 

As the Prince's royal guard, he was not allowed to speak to him, nor touch him. Peasants weren't allowed such contact with royalty. Their voices were too rough, grating and uneducated for nobility's refined ears. Their touch too harsh for skin unused to years of grueling work and harsh weather. Interacting with a peasant would be at best extremely distasteful, at worst physically painful for a royal. Only in the most dire situations, when nobility was endangered, were lower classes to speak to or touch them. Peasants were nearly a different species entirely. The lower class was a rough and stupid species, while the nobles were more akin to gods than men. 

As for the third rule, Dirk had instated it himself. A certain level of devotion was required to spend ones life serving day after day in silence, not touching or even looking one's ward directly in the eyes. Several Royal guards only stayed for a few years, taking the extravagant pay and then moving to a less taxing job, able to live in comfort for the rest of their lives. Eventually, a guard would stay with a royal for the rest of their lives. Unbeknownst to the nobles, this never happened unless the guard had formed a certain attachment to the noble in question. The nobles believed all peasants adored them- who wouldn't? And that peasants weren't stupid enough to truly fall in love with them, except on the rare, pitiful occasion. The peasants knew that a guard that stayed past 5 years had already devoted his life to their ward. Nobility may be selfish and self absorbed, but they were beautiful, and extravagant, and somebody always fell in love with them, no matter how cruel. 

Dirk had never expected to be made a royal guard. Many people went into army training with that exact hope, but not Dirk. He'd enlisted at 11, lying about his age so they would accept him so young. Most members had either been drafted, or were glory-hungry, or trying to land a spot as a guard. For Dirk, the royal army was the only job guaranteed to take even a dirt-poor orphan from one of the poorest villages in the land. After the death of his parents, and after that his brother, Dirk had spent years being shuffled from house to house, barely surviving on the scraps given to him from families already fighting for survival. He'd worked his ass off to make it to an age where he looked old enough to finally enlist, and his efforts had paid off. Most peasants were perfectly capable of shearing a sheep or chopping wood, which also made them capable of wielding weapons. After a few days of proper feeding, Dirk had shown he could not only already manage peasants tasks at a young age, but move fast enough to escape nearly any blow, aim sharply enough to make razor-thin cuts, and was ridiculously hard to startle. He was proving to continue the small legend of a ridiculously talented peasant bloodline, destined to fight. He'd soared through the ranks, only going to a handful of battles before being stated as the prince's new royal guard. 

After that, Dirk had never expected to fall in love. He didn't like the nobles- they were greedy and fat and let villages like his fall into shambles, and sent their people off to war to gain more land when families were already starving to death. Still, he'd been reared on tales of how lovely nobles were, their near godlike status, how far above peasants they were. He couldn't hate them. He supposed they had their reasons, far too advanced for his weak peasant's mind. 

But he'd soon discovered that his ward, Jake, was different. He was young, only 16, like Dirk. He was silly, playing jokes on other nobles. He was kind- it was customary for guards to have their tongues cut out, to keep them from betraying government secrets. Jake had never allowed such practices, insisting that secrets were as easily written as spoken, and if they deprived guards of their hands they wouldn't be able to do their jobs! Not that Dirk could write, but he supposed some guards had been able to, in the past. He wasn't going to argue for having his tongue cut out, anyways. 

Jake was adventurous- he'd gotten them both scolded many times, after dragging Dirk with him to go riding instead of attending lessons or meetings. He didn't like the fashions much, or not as much as other nobles. And he wasn't cruel, like the others. Dirk had decided over the years that Jake got his traits from his elusive grandmother, who had raised him. She was never meant to become queen, but her parents had never yielded sons, and the girl had avoided the untimely death usually so common in royal daughters lacking any brothers. She had ended up queen, and as the only single female ruler for miles and miles, she'd been very self reliant. She'd learned life lessons like a peasant, instead of life being handed to her. And it looked like she'd passed those lessons on to the new prince, whom she called her grandson. Nobody knew their actual relation, as the queen had never openly married or given birth. But they were taught not to question. 

Dirk slid the whetting stone over his knife again, exiting his reverie. Of course he'd fallen in love with the young prince. He was beautiful, like many nobles- dark skin, unmarked by years of toil, dark hair scented from expensive oils and soaps, freckles smattered across his nose and shoulders, and flashing green eyes. He wasn't fat like most nobles, he was too fond of riding and too opposed to the frequent meetings where nobles stuffed their faces with sweets even before meals. And he was so different. Of course he'd captured Dirk's heart.

Dirk stood, tearing his eyes away from his ward, who sat reading a book beneath a tree. He needed to be training, not wasting time admiring Jake. He was worse than some besotted maid. It had been three years now, he ought to know better than to stare, especially in as public a place as the training ground.

Jake turned a page in his book, and Dirk turned back to one of the dummies. With quick swipes, he spilled grain from the potato sack that made up the body from a thin slash to the side, then a much deeper, less refined cut to the stomach. Enough toying with his prey. Dirk made another expert gash across the throat line, then decided to thrust his sword into the dummy's left breast. He didn't see why he should be the only one with a broken heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exposition dump ft. sad Dirk

"Dirk, leave off that. You've practiced enough for the day." 

Dirk pulled his sword from the dummy, turning to look at his master. Jake had stood now, book tucked under his arm, a slight flush to his cheeks. Dirk supposed it was from the heat, although Jake was normally more resilient than he, thanks to his dark skin. Still, Dirk was sweating decently enough, so he supposed it was hot enough even for Jake to feel warm. He sheathed his sword and inclined his head to simulate bowing- he used to make the full gesture, but Jake insisted it was a waste of time. The tilt of the head had become their silent compromise. Jake grinned at him, waiting for Dirk to come to his side before starting back to his quarters. 

"You needn't train so hard all the time, you know. You're going to pull a muscle, and lord knows you're skilled enough already. I'm not totally defenseless, my grandmother did teach me some self defense. You know that.You've got to learn to relax, Strider. Sit down, watch the clouds, read. There's more to life than training. I'd like to lend you the book I'm reading, it's excellent, it's all about sailors and the things they've seen on the high seas, mermaids and sirens and giant squids. I'd love to go sailing. I know I've traveled, but I'd like to really sail, not just be shut up on a boat to meet some other stuffy men while people like you get to see what's really going on. I wish I was more like you, sometimes. I suppose you'll be off soon- it's been three years, you've probably made your fortune. Perhaps you'll go sailing next. You must tell me about all your adventures, I'm sure you'll make your fortune and rise to be a duke, at the least. Then you'll speak to me." 

Dirk followed half a step behind as Jake chattered. He gave no response, but he listened, as always. Sometimes he was grateful for the ban on conversation. He wasn't very skilled with people, and would have a hard time answering Jake's incessant comments. Especially when asked why he never let Jake do him favors. Or where he would go next. Dirk was not, as Jake believed, planning on leaving soon. He trusted no one but himself to keep the young prince safe, and had no particular dreams of sailing or living in luxury. The money he made now was sent home, to try and help his struggling village. Jake didn't know that, of course. He didn't know anything, and Dirk wasn't sure if he'd like him to. 

They'd reached Jake's quarters. Jake set his book down on the bedside table, going to his looking glass to fuss with his hair. He had beautiful hair, dark and shiny, and it smelled nice. Dirk also tried to make himself presentable-there was no use washing or changing yet, before breakfast. He didn't smell that bad, anyways, he'd washed just last night. Soap was one luxury he allowed himself, finally having the funds to support his loathing of uncleanliness. All there was to do was tidy his hair, he supposed, so he retied the short ponytail he wore to keep it out of the way. 

Jake, finished fixing his hair, grabbed his cloak from the hook and pulled it round his shoulders. Dirk took that to mean he planned on going riding today. 

"Dirk, fasten the brooch, if you please. Last time I pricked myself, the damn thing has a temper." Jake stood directly in front of Dirk, his collar bared. He was close enough that Dirk could smell his soap, an array of scents too foreign for him to identify. It smelled nice. 

He gave Jake a reproachful look- guards weren't meant to even look directly at nobility, but ridiculously few followed that rule. Dirk avoided eye contact, and wore the thin muslin blindfold for ceremonies, but that was it. That rule he would break, but Jake was pushing it. Jake was always pushing it, chattering constantly at him, trying to initiate conversation, invading personal space. Dirk had heard of nobles trying to convince guards to break the rules just to throw them in prison, but Jake's behavior had gone on too long. He really did want to be friends. Ridiculous. 

Jake was giving him the pouty eyes, and he wasn't lying about pricking his finger, so Dirk gave in. There wouldn't be skin contact, and guards were allowed to break any rules if it was to protect their wards. He was protecting Jake from another wound, if anyone asked. 

Jake was a bit shorter than he was. Dirk had to look down to fasten the brooch, and Jake tilted his head back to give him the space. Dirk could see his chest moving with each breath, and the cleft in between his collar bones. Jake's breath came softly, enough that Dirk could feel it across his own skin. They were so close, it would barely take anything to lean down and kiss him. He could start with Jake's lips, then move to kiss down his neck to meet his fingers at Jake's collarbone. He could imagine the way Jake might tip his head back, maybe sigh gently. Of course, that would never happen. And Jake could never feel pleasure from a peasant's touch. Dirk fasted the brooch with deft fingers, his eyes meeting Jake's as they left the pin. Jake had such green eyes. Dirk was always fixated by them, along with everything else about Jake. But he only held the eye contact for a second, before turning away and mentally berating himself. Stupid, reckless. Jake was going to figure it out one of these days, and then where would he be? Laughed at, scorned, put into the stocks, or even beheaded. What a ridiculous notion. A peasant, in love with the young prince, the next in line for the throne. A _boy_ peasant. Dirk would be beheaded for sure, once Jake had stopped laughing at him. 

Jake, who'd worn a trace of a smile, now furrowed his brows and took half a step towards Dirk before thinking better of it. 

"Thank you. Now come on, or we'll be late for breakfast. And I'd like to go on a hunt before the day gets too hot." 

 

Breakfast was a rushed affair. Dirk ate breakfast in his own quarters before reporting for duty, so stood guard by the door while Jake ate with his grandmother and the few other nobles in the castle who weren't too hungover to attend breakfast. Only polite conversation was passed, and Dirk didn't bother listening to it. He was thinking about the food- Jake and his grandmother both had sandwiches, and fruit, and eggs and bacon. Eggs, Dirk was used to, and some of the fruit. But some he didn't recognize. Bacon was a scarcity for him, meat had to be sold or dried for winter. Bread, he was used to, it was a staple in any peasant's diet. 

The food that the others outside of the English family ate was what he focused on. They ate pastries, the bread flaky and saturated in butter. Red and purple oozed from the pastries, and Dirk could smell sugar mixed in with the fruity jam. They even scattered powdered white sugar across their meals. They had coffee, the scent unique enough to identify instantly, and they all ate with silverware that could be sold for a week's worth of peasant's food. Dirk had thought that they'd changed when Christmas was when he first came here. But no, they always ate like this. Dirk's mouth had stopped watering after the first month or so, but he always remembered the hunger pangs he'd suffered as a child. How far this meal could go in his village. 

Jake excused himself, waking Dirk from his thoughts again. The prince had taken some spare food in a satchel, and was now excited to start the day. It was summer, and the woods were lovely. Jake announced the hunt to the table, and to the stream of red-eyed men now entering the dining hall. Most agreed they would join shortly, but Jake wasn't known for his patience. He insisted he and Dirk go immediately to the tack room, and the others catch up. 

"I'm thinking we give them the slip- they're so dreadfully loud, and they just scare off all the good game. I heard some foxes baying last night, we may catch them." Jake chattered as Dirk saddled and bridled the horses. Jake's hunting dog also joined them, a fluffy white thing bred from the queen's own stock. Jake mounted his horse, a delicate pure white mare. She was fast and agile, if a bit of a chore to clean after going hunting. Dirk's horse was larger and wider, a dark gray. She was faster than Jake's, and what she lacked in agility made up for in endurance. Two clicks from Jake and they were off at a brisk pace. It was a lovely day for hunting. Jake had his bow, but since Dirk was only there for protection, he weilded only his sword. He couldn't afford to divert his focus from Jake for hunting. 

The sun rose in the sky as the two boys traipsed around the wood. Occasionally, the calls of the other nobles were audible, but Jake would always redirect in the other direction. Dirk found it odd, how much Jake seemed to dislike the company of the other nobles. He would think they'd be much more preferable to Jake than his own wretched company. Maybe because Dirk wasn't as opposed to the woods as most royals. He preferred the indoors, but he was used to working in heat and cold and rain, and didn't mind some sweat or cuts. Jake seemed to adore the outside, like an energetic young boy. He reminded Dirk of a wood nymph, the way he darted about on the horse, looking at the plants and leaves and calling back to the birds. When Jake wasn't looking, Dirk let himself smile. 

And when Jake saw, he didn't say anything about the ache in his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exposition dump yaaayyyyy
> 
> Indentations? No, scoffed the phone designer. When would anyone need a use for indentations to be easily insertable?


	3. Chapter 3

Hours and two foxes later, Jake stopped in a clearing, tying his mare loosely to a tree. The dog sped forward, lapping up water from a large pool fed by a trickling brook. The clearing was lovely, all green and quiet on the windless day. Dirk stopped his horse as well to watch Jake tie their game to the tree, then head towards the pool himself. 

He made no move as Jake removed his shoes, cloak, belt, and other external layers. He'd seen Jake change before, he'd had to help him on multiple occasions. He did let his eyes greedily roam the brown slate of Jake's back, unmarked but for darker brown freckles across his shoulders. Jake kept his undercloth on before he slipped into the water, sighing at the obvious coolness. Dirk let his horse alone so she could also rest, sitting himself under a tree by the edge of the pool. 

"Dirk, come in. I know you must be hot under all that chainmail they insist you wear. Come on, there's no one out here to hurt me." Jake sat where the water was only inches deep, looking at Dirk with his biggest eyes. Dirk could see water drops clinging to his eyelashes, rolling down his face from his hair. He wondered to himself what it would feel like to kiss the water away from Jake's lips. His own were always a little chapped, but Jake's were smooth. In the water, Jake would be weightless. Dirk would hold him, and it would be like Jake was floating. He could push Jake's wet hair from his face, he could dip down and kiss him under the water, and it would be like their own secret world where they floated, away from the rules of the kingdom. 

"Come on, old chap, what are you thinking of? Come have a bit of fun, it won't kill either of us." Jake grinned up at him with that dazzling smile, and Dirk ignored the feeling of his heart squeezing. He shouldn't. It wasn't forbidden, but...he'd be shirking his duties. Oh, he'd love to, but he really shouldn't. 

"What if I ordered you to come in?" Dirk didn't move, but his eyebrows raised. He'd have to come in, and Jake obviously realized it too, from the mischievous grin he now bore. 

"Then by order of the Queen, I bid you to come into the pond with me. And have fun!"

Dirk wasn't sure if he wanted to smile or roll his eyes. But he obeyed, shedding his chainmail, sword, belt, shoes and other gear. He kept on his shirt and pants- they would dry quickly, and he didn't want Jake seeing him that intimately. It would surely pain his eyes, seeing a peasant without any coverings. 

Jake was right. The water felt like a cool kiss on his tired body, and Dirk couldn't avoid the sigh that escaped his lips as he sank in. Jake was grinning, and Dirk's heart sped up at the sight. 

"See? There's no harm in having a bit of fun!" Jake backed himself into the deeper part of the pond, floating on his back. Dirk could swim enough to get from one point to the other, but couldn't float like that. When had Jake learned? He contented himself to swish the water with his hands, watching the shapes it formed. 

"You can talk to me, you know. Out here." Jake was still floating on his back, looking up at the sky. When Dirk didn't say anything, he sighed. "No, I should've known you wouldn't. I know, I'm above everyone else. Not to be spoken to. Only it gets very lonely, old chap. Sometimes I wish I could be more like you. I could have friends, then, friends that could talk to me and didn't want anything besides my company. I could have a sweetheart, instead of just a peace treaty. I could go out in the woods, see the world, interact with people out of my class!" He flipped upright again, but the light faded from his eyes when he saw Dirk's blank face. "But I suppose you think I'm absolutely bonkers, eh? Totalifficaly rindonkulous." 

Dirk shook his head. He didn't think Jake was bonkers, or any of those made up words. It made him sad, to know Jake was lonely. To know that if it weren't for the law, he could comfort him. Jake's perception of peasant hood also saddened him. The prince obviously had no clue the lives lead by the peasants in his kingdom. Many still had arranged marriages, to try and get as much wealth as possible. Many were too poor to travel. Many died early. A peasant's life was nothing but shared pain, and a royal's nothing but isolated extravagance. Maybe that was hard, too. If only Dirk were a royal! Then he could comfort Jake. He could talk with him, share jokes and food and they could practice together, they could skip out on lessons and go exploring, they could be best friends. He could hold him, and chase away the loneliness, and kiss away any frowns, and exalt him in the way he deserved. 

"Well, at least you're answering me now. We can't hold a conversation, I suppose. But... but I could ask you questions, and you could just shake or nod. That's not breaking any rules! Well, what about you. Have you got a sweetheart?" 

Dirk shook his head. His heart belonged to another, but a sweetheart implied reciprocation. What an idea. 

"Oh...really? A fine chap like you, no sweetheart?" Jake grinned as the blush spread across Dirk's face. "With your looks, you must have the ladies crawling all over you. Oh, don't turn away like that, old bean! All right, all right, I won't embarrass you any more." 

Dirk had had to hide his face in shame at Jake's teasing. As if a noble could possibly think him at all attractive. Maybe strong, or sturdy, like a horse, like a tool to be used. But he knew his face must be gruesome to Jake. That's what he'd been told his whole life, and generations before him all knew to be true. At least Jake wasn't going to press on. 

"What about a family, then?" 

Easy. Dirk shook his head no. Father dead before he was born, mother before he could talk. Brother before he'd grown hair on his chin, and none other to speak of. 

"Oh...well I'm very sorry to hear that, Strider. At least I have gran. What about this job? Do you like it?" 

It was a job, Dirk supposed. It was better than barely scraping by in his old village. It was better than being a pawn in battle. And it was better than trusting somebody else to protect his beloved. He nodded yes again. It was the best job he could hope for from his status. 

"Good! I'm glad of that." Jake was upright again and smiling, and had drifted quite close to him. Dirk nervously moved back, seeing Jake's face fall once more. 

"What about me? Do you like me at all? Or d'you think I'm just another arrogant plonker focused on nothing but gold?" 

Dirk shook his head at that- then realized his mistake, and quickly nodded to make up for it, eyes widening in panic. He didn't think Jake was an arrogant plonker, he thought he was kind and adventurous and clever. Jake laughed at Dirk's expression, obviously getting at what he'd meant. 

"Alright, then, old chap, no need to go bonkers over it. I'm happy, then. I like you too. As a guard, of course. Best I've ever had." 

A smile tugged at Dirk's mouth, but he resisted it. Jake's eyes darted downwards when he saw it, making Dirk flush. 

"Well, enough of me prattling on. Let's have a race! I'll bet you had all sorts of fun back in your little town, and now you've only got one day off a week. Come on, we'll go to the edge and then start!" 

Dirk followed, incredulous at Jake's naivety. Fun back in his town? Only one day off a week? Everybody worked on Sabbath in his village. They took off Easter and Christmas, but nothing else. Many of them didn't even worship the same God that Jake did, but working on those holidays was punishable. They had to take those days off. Taking off the Sabbath every week would be suicide. Even now, Dirk spent Sabbath cleaning, mending, chopping firewood, tending his garden, cooking what he could for the week, sometimes riding back to his old village. He hated sitting idle. And Jake imagined that he'd had the time to learn how to swim. 

Jake had them poise at the edge of the pond, while he gave the count off. Dirk had no idea where Jake had learned to swim, but he was very good at it. He left Dirk in his trail every time. They did sidestroke, backstroke, freestyle, handicaps. Dirk only won a smattering of them, until Jake decided he'd had enough and climbed up on the bank to dry off. Dirk joined him, lying a few feet away and closing his eyes as he regained his breath. 

This was nice. The sun-warmed rocks on his back, leaves rustling softly, and Jake just a few feet away. Dirk daydreamed at what might happen if things were different- he'd take Jake's hand gingerly, Jake would squeeze it to reassure him. After a while, Dirk would lean up, and bend over and kiss him. He'd run his fingers through Jake's drying hair, Jake would tug him closer. He'd run his hands down Jake's bare chest, they'd roll from the stony shore to the grass and- 

Dirk opened his eyes when he heard a twig snap. But Jake was lying still on the shore, eyes closed and breathing softly. In the same peaceful state as Dirk had been. Jake's dog was asleep in the shade, and the horses were lying down. Animals didn't sound like that when they broke twigs. Another noble, finally caught up with them? 

He rolled to his feet, creeping to his sword as he scanned the clearing. Jake, hearing him, sat up and looked around. Dirk pressed a finger to his lips to indicate Jake should stay silent, and the prince swallowed and nodded. Dirk picked up his sword, and nudged his chainmail towards Jake with his foot. Jake looked like he was about to argue, but was cut off when a large man stepped out from behind a shrub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow Dirk is gay and I can't do filler scenes


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun duuunnnnn

Dirk stepped back as their visitor stepped forward. Dirk was tall, but this man was hulking. He towered above both prince and guard, clear blue eyes like knives and a greasy black beard falling halfway down his chest. Dirk moved in front of Jake, raising his sword before the man took another step. 

"My...my lord." The words felt electric on his tongue. They were allowed, he reminded himself, he was allowed to speak to Jake to protect him, but only then. Despite all his daydreaming, Dirk had never really wanted to speak to Jake. He never wanted the situation to call for it, for only when Jake was in danger was Dirk granted permission to speak. He'd rather pine his life away than speak one word if it meant Jake was in danger. Even now, Dirk had to fight to get the words out, still feeling the transgression of it all. He tried to speak quietly, sure that his voice would be grating on Jake's ears. Even speaking as gently as possible, he could see the prince look up at him, obviously amazed that such a horrid sound even existed. 

"My lord, I humbly request you don my chainmail." Dirk's voice was deeper than one would expect. He saw Jake obey him, heard the song of metal against metal as Jake pulled on the heavy protective shirt. "When I instruct you to run, run. Do not look back. Do not slow down. Don't worry about any of your belongings, get on your horse and ride as fast as you can." 

The stranger barked something in a language Dirk didn't recognize. What he said was made clear, however, when three additional men emerged from the bushes at various sides of the clearing. Far enough away that they'd have to cross the clearing to make it to Dirk, but close enough they could intercept all escape routes. 

"Strider, no! I can help. You can't possibly take them all, you know I can fight, let me help-" 

Dirk had to cut off the plaintive voice of his prince. "No, your highness. It's my sworn duty to protect you. If you get involved, it will only make it harder to keep you safe. Stay behind me. Do you speak their language?" 

"A-a bit. It's much more localized, and not as formal as I learned, but... um, he wants our valuables. He says he'll let us go, if we just turn over our goods..." 

Dirk noticed a brief hand signal from one of the henchman, then a nod at Jake. Dirk knew that hand signal, it referred to the slave trade. Outlawed in this kingdom, but not in most of the bordering ones. Like hell they were going to let them go. And like hell he would let them hurt Jake. 

"No. I'll duel them. You run, your majesty, and don't look back, or come back here. I'll return, if it is willed."

"Dirk, stop this. You won't- let me help, I'm not useless!" 

"My lord, I must insist. Please." Dirk softened his voice on the last word, and granted himself a look back at Jake. He begged him with his eyes- he must look pathetic to Jake, but maybe the prince would acquiesce for pity's sake. Jake swallowed and nodded, his eyes large as he stared at Dirk. He must not be used to groveling from such an already undesirable creature. 

Dirk turned away again, baring his sword to the bearded man. The others were staying still, obviously guarding escape routes around the clearing. He could take out two, Jake could escape. Dirk didn't care about the other two, if he could best them or not. As long as Jake escaped. The first man, with the beard, sprang forward with his sword bared. He slashed first, Dirk dodging it easily. Then Dirk moved, then the bearded man. None hit; the men were more focused on learning how their opponent maneuvered, their fighting style, than actually trying to land a hit. But this calm testing period didn't last long. Dirk's opponent made several quick jabs, driving him back. Jake had to scramble out of the way, before Dirk did a quick side step and managed to slash across the back of his competitor's knees, toppling him. 

The next two men were upon Dirk before he'd even had a chance to check on Jake. He hadn't noticed them closing in, they must be more skilled and stealthy than he'd originally believed. One obviously had no training, swinging his blade wildly, while the other made more precise blows. It was all Dirk could do to fend off the two of them, all while being slowly pressed back. The bearded man was still alive, just unable to rise. He jeered from the ground, as the other two kept pressing Dirk back. For a split second, Dirk felt his balance tip as he nearly fell into the pond, one arm reeling backwards to try and keep his balance. He swung his sword out and upwards, to try and restore his center of balance, managing to skewer the untrained man through the heart. The other foe clipped him in the side, where red immediately showed up against the white of his still-wet shirt. Dodging the next blow, Dirk grabbed the sword from the dying man and yanked out his own, the corpse toppling over into the water. 

"Run!" Dirk screamed it, no longer caring how hideous his voice must be. He blocked his adversary's thrust at Jake, finally seeing Jake turn in the other direction. 

Two were out of the way, he could defend against two more while Jake escaped. He watched his prince sprint to the white horse, glad that Jake was so skilled at riding. The man still standing regained Dirk's attention after he swung at him, narrowly missing Dirk's head. Dirk had to dodge, then retreat once more. From the corner of his eye, he saw the last man sprint across the clearing, obviously headed after Jake. Dirk hurled the scimitar stolen from the man he'd just killed, but missed. Jake had mounted his horse and was riding away at breakneck speed, the ruffian grabbing Dirk's horse and commanding her after him. Dirk could see she resisted, but the man drove her until she pursued. Dirk couldn't watch any longer, having to divert his attention back to his opponent. The most skilled of the four it would seem, as he was keeping Dirk busy and unable to land any hits. Dirk could hear the hoofbeats of the horses disappearing into the distance, the dog likely following behind. He pressed on against the other raider; each of them landed very shallow hits, each strike showing vivid red against Dirk's white shirt. The man was focused on pressing Dirk in a sort of circle, almost more than hitting him. Steering Dirk towards something, likely the pond and away from the tree line. Dirk worked with it- he pretended he didn't notice, pretended he was resisting the path he was being herded. It worked; the man was so focused on moving Dirk, Dirk was able to feint in the opposite direction, then step back into the path to swing his sword in a wide arc straight into his unguarded enemy's neck. 

But Dirk's wasn't the only blade to connect. 

He felt the searing pain nearly the same time he felt his sword connect and sever tendons and bone on the last man's neck. Dirk dropped his sword and staggered back, gasping. The last man dropped, head still half on. Dead, at least. But Dirk had more pressing issues to worry about than that. He looked down to the white-hot pain emanating from his stomach, seeing the hilt of what looked like a small dagger. The other man's sword was still in his hand, so where...? 

He looked around in confusion, until his eyes fell on the first man, the one who'd had his knees slashed. He was trapped on the ground, unable to walk, sword out of reach. But he'd obviously had another weapon on him, now in Dirk's belly. The bearded man's face was contorted, and it took Dirk several seconds to realize he was laughing. He just couldn't hear him for the blood rushing in his ears. He hadn't noticed that before. 

Rage flashed through Dirk, and before he knew what he was doing he'd pulled the dagger from his stomach and lodged it in the man's throat. The dirty face was frozen in the contortion of laughter, now a gruesome, ironic expression. Dirk could see blood bubbling from his neck, but the sound he knew such a wound would make was lost to him. Shock, he supposed. 

He had to get back. There was still one more, who'd followed Jake. He had to find Jake and make sure he was okay, he had to protect him. Dirk's head was swimming and fuzzy, sharply contrasting with the sharp pain in his gut. His vision was swimming, too- he could see bright red, and a few lingering spots of white left on his shirt. He could see the path Jake had escaped down, and ran towards it. Or attempted to. The first step and he was down, collapsing next to the corpse of the bearded man. Dirk kicked him away- he wouldn't die next to his murderer. 

His stomach hurt. His limbs felt fuzzy and detached, he felt that there was a pane of glass between himself and the rest of the world. Everything felt like a dream. But a man had escaped, Jake was still in danger. Dirk wasn't in his right mind as he dragged himself to his feet, this time making it several feet before collapsing again. He shouldn't be this weak. He'd had cuts before, what was one slice to the belly? Dirk looked down, and was quite surprised at the amount of blood across his torso. He hadn't realized he'd bled so much. 

Dirk dropped his head, feeling smooth stones beneath his hair. He must be on the shore by the pond. He'd like to drink, but there was a dead man in the pond. There was no chance he'd catch up with Jake now. The last raider would come back to the clearing and finish him off. Dirk knew his horse was clever, she wouldn't let Jake be caught. The thought comforted him- Jake would arrive back at the castle, maybe shaken but unscathed. He'd be taken care of. After the attack, he'd certainly be given at least two guards. No risks would be taken. Jake would be alright. Dirk repeated that sentiment to himself, as he began to see darkness at the edge of his vision. Jake would be fine. He'd protected him. He did hope he'd be unconscious when the last raider came back to kill him, but he'd trade a few moments of pain if Jake's safety was his only blessing today. Jake. Safe and warm back at the castle, fed and comforted by his equals. Dirk could feel the darkness tugging, tugging. Maybe Jake would have been grateful. Maybe he would have smiled at him, maybe kissed his hand. Dirk wished he were going to heaven. Maybe there he could be equal to Jake. Maybe they could be friends there. Hell, it was heaven. Maybe they could be lovers. Dirk thought he deserved the notion, at least. He deserved, one last time, to imagine Jake's smooth lips against his own, imagine Jake sighing softly as he slid his hands down Dirk's back. Warm breath against Dirk's skin, Jake's heartbeat in time with his own. Too bad Dirk was a damned soul. Heaven seemed nice. 

Dirk had a peaceful smile as he finally let the darkness rise, like a wave, and drag him under.


	5. Chapter 5

Dirk woke up. 

That in itself was a surprising enough turn of events. He had expected to be dealt with as soon as the last ruffian returned, before he'd woken, and for that to be it. But it would seem that fate willed otherwise. 

It was night now. Dirk could see countless stars above, the moon bright enough to shed light through the trees and illuminate the clearing. Dirk could still feel the pain in his stomach, but it was more like a dying coal than the white-hot pain from when he'd first been injured. 

He sat up, then lowered himself with a groan. Still too painful. He couldn't walk yet, and the water had a rotting corpse in it. He wasn't desperate enough to drink it yet, but he'd certainly catch his death if he did. He'd likely be able to walk again before exposure finished him off, but maybe not. He couldn't gauge the severity of the wound. If something large and hungry came along, there was no escape. The best thing to hope for would be a search party, but it was unlikely one would be sent. Not for him. Not for a peasant, nothing more than a poor orphan skilled with a sword. Not that skilled, anyways, as he'd gotten himself stabbed. No one would be sent for a failure of a guard. Jake wouldn't be pleased, he'd be ashamed of his guard doing such a shoddy job. Dirk would be stranded out here until death. At least he wouldn't have to face the prince, after his shameful actions. 

Dirk wasn't sure if it was a blessing or a curse for summer to be here. It was a lovely evening, clear and warm. But if it were cold, he'd at least be numb. Or dead. It would likely be better if he were dead. 

He turned his head to look at the pond, the moon a perfect reflection on the still water. A decent distance away, a black mass blocked the reflection of the stars. Dirk ignored what it meant. He wondered if it was better to die in the water, or on land. He wouldn't want animals eating at his corpse. But he wouldn't want to slowly rot away, for his bones to forever gaze up at any other who came upon the clearing. There wasn't really a good option. Not for people like him. It was death today or pain tomorrow, your corpse never at rest or your flesh eaten by beasts. Even a stone at his head would be enough. Just something. To show that he'd been here, he'd done something. That someone cared enough to place a stone at his head. 

Dirk felt something hot and wet in the corner of his eye, and wiped at his face angrily. He hadn't cried in years, and wasn't about to start now. He wouldn't fall into shameful self-pity. It was what it was. He would die alone and in pain and no one would care, and that was that. But he wouldn't die a sniveling wreck. 

As he lay still and started to calm down, Dirk heard an animal off in the distance. Very faint, but he soon realized it was coming closer. A steady beat. 

Hoofbeats. 

Dirk lay still as he could as he heard the animal approach. Surely the last man was coming back now. Please, just let Jake be safe. As long as the prince was safe, things would be okay. 

As the horse reached the clearing and stopped, Dirk felt his heart pounding. He realized that for some reason, he didn't want to die. He had little to live for, and everything to die for. But he didn't want to die, he wanted to see another sunrise and ride his horse again, see Jake smile again. He wanted his heart to break and his body to ache, he wanted all the pain of living instead of the eternal rest promised in death. His heart thumped louder and faster, trying to fit a lifetime into the few seconds he had left. 

Soft footsteps were approaching. They sounded considerably lighter than the thug had been; but the group had been skilled, perhaps the man was just stealthy. Dirk couldn't discern the figure's features as they approached, despite the bright moonlight. Even when they drew close, Dirk closed his eyes. He didn't want to look into the cruel face again. He wanted to think about Jake. Jake and his kind eyes and scattered freckles like flowers in a courtyard, and soft lips that Dirk wanted more than anything in the world. This was an okay image to die with. 

The stranger drew close, and Dirk tried to keep as still as possible. He had no idea why he was clinging so hard to life, when exposure would kill him even if the man didn't. But he played possum anyways, cursing his body when two warm fingers lay themselves at the side of his neck. He held his breath, but his heart wouldn't cease pounding. He hoped they'd at least be quick. A knife to the throat, or head. Even chest. Maybe he would at least be granted that mercy. 

To Dirk's confusion, the hand now lay at his forehead. Unable to resist curiosity, he opened his eyes to see a face. A woman's face. 

She had long hair, mostly black, but with strands the color of the moonlight woven through. She had dark skin and freckles across her face, like Jake, but her eyes were a lighter green. For a moment, Dirk wondered if she were an angel. The Jake he should have fallen in love with, a woman, come to take him to the afterlife. But he wasn't meant for heaven, Dirk knew his thoughts on Jake prevented that. But angels escorted men to hell, didn't they? But if he were dead, he wouldn't feel the slash in his belly. Dirk squinted his eyes, trying to see her face more clearly. 

In another second, he'd recognized the face of the Queen herself. 

Dirk jerked back so hard he hurt his stomach, doubling over immediately. The queen had touched him. He was so far beneath her he could barely fathom it, and she'd touched him like it was nothing. He could feel himself cringing, both from pain and shame over how wrong it all was. 

"Shhh." The soft voice soothed him. "It's alright, you won't be in trouble. I'm going to take you home, Dirk. We'll have our finest doctors patch you up, you're going to be fine. Don't be afraid." 

He felt himself gently cradled and lifted, unable to fight another cringe, and barely choking back a pained cry. He was soon set down again, in a small cart the horse carried. Dirk curled in on himself, the shame washing over him. And then they were off, the rumbling of the cart sending small shocks of pain through him, especially over every rock and twig. The queen rode on the horse, steering in as gentle a route as she could manage. Before even the first rays of light had stolen the night, Dirk could see home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Filler filler, been there read that
> 
> I didn't want to cut any of Dirk's thought process, but continuing the chapter into the next scene felt awkward ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	6. Chapter 6

Somewhere between the bridge to the castle and the royal infirmary, Dirk lost consciousness. 

The brief rest didn't last long, as he was soon awakened by a burning in his stomach somehow even worse than the initial injury. He sat up with a yelp, seeing he was now in an infirmary bed. Several healers were gathered, and were cleaning his wounds with some sort of tonic. It felt like fire, and smelled terrible. Someone was holding him still as the tonic was applied to the deeper cuts on his stomach and side, even the shallow wounds on his arms. Everywhere it was applied seared with pain, and Dirk had to check more than once to see if his skin was being burned away. It wasn't, but it didn't much help the situation. 

At some point, the queen brought him some water. Dirk couldn't look at her as he accepted- he was to serve her, not the other way round. She backed off, thankfully, and soon after Dirk saw her at the edge of the room, speaking to another member of the court with her guard standing silently beside them. 

The guard. He hadn't been in the clearing, or in the wood at all. The queen had gone out unaccompanied...didn't she realize what a risk that had been? How had she been able to convince her guard to let her be? Or to slip past him? For a moment, Dirk's confusion was great enough to distract him from the pain. The constant presence of a guard was one of the kingdom's most important rules. If that rule was broken, what others might be? What other rules already were being broken, without Dirk's knowledge? 

A needle and thread pulling his skin taught broke Dirk from his thoughts. He wished the nobility would leave, so he could at least swear. But all he had liberty to do at the moment was bite his hand hard enough to keep from crying out as the doctors tried to heal him. A lost cause, in his opinion. A waste of resources, even if he were to be saved. He was a useless guard, and after this would be a scarred and stiff one. It would be more trouble to keep him alive than he was worth. 

The hours crept on, and eventually Dirk was let alone to rest. The first rays of light were now breaching the horizon, the sky that funny gray color it turns when the moon hasn't yet been chased away. Dirk lay exhausted and alone, but was unable to sleep. Maybe because he'd slept the evening away before the queen had found him. Maybe because the light now interrupted his rest, maybe because his wounds still radiated pain through his tired body. The queen had left around an hour ago, when they'd first started stitching him. The doctors had kept him under watch for a while after the stitches were done, but even they had drifted away a while ago. Dirk was alone with his thoughts, a glass of water, and a blanket that didn't quite keep him warm. 

The heavy door to the infirmary opened. Dirk turned his head- perhaps another doctor, or a guard come to tell him he'd been relieved of his position. Instead, he saw the anxious face of his beloved peering into the room. 

Dirk turned away. He could feel his heart picking up speed, his quickened pulse sending small waves of pain through him. He didn't want Jake to see him. He must look so pathetic. And Jake had heard his voice now. Dirk couldn't imagine how awful it must have been to his ears to hear not just a peasant's voice, but a low, dirty, orphan peasant's voice. It was a miracle he hadn't wounded Jake, and that Jake was willing to see him again. On top of that, he was a useless guard, and the efforts to save his life were ridiculous. 

Dirk was reminded of a small boy from his village, who'd spent the better part of a year nursing a sick dog back to health. He'd held the notion it would grow strong, and be a sheepdog that would take enough work from his father that the family could double their work and become wealthy. The dog did grow stronger, but it was always a weak thing, couldn't do much besides keep company. Still, the boy sacrificed his meals for it, stayed out in the cold to make sure the dog was alright. 

The boy had became weak from not eating enough. Then he became sick from being in the cold, and was dead before the next year. The dog survived, but nobody took care of it now. It moved on to the next village, and Dirk supposed it eventually starved. Perhaps a sad tale, but Dirk was crass to minor heartaches. One had to be with a life like his, or the pain would become too much. 

He felt much the same as that hound. More trouble than he was worth, and never going to be useful again. He would be able to recover, certainly, but what if the prince were threatened on a day the weather was poor, and Dirk's wounds were irritated? A guard not constantly at his prime was a worthless guard. Perhaps the prince had come to relieve him of his position. Dirk wished he would've just sent a message, these weren't the last words he wanted to hear from his adored prince. 

Jake had reached the bed now. Dirk remained turned away, hoping he'd be fired and then Jake would just leave. He would pretend to be asleep, but felt it would be disrespectful. Dirk was beginning to question his desire to live. Yes, Jake was lovelier than any heaven that could be promised. But was it worth the shame of living on, knowing he'd failed and disgusted his prince?

Jake sat down in the observation chair by the bed, sighing softly. That meant he was planning on staying long enough that his feet would be tired of standing. Dirk braced himself for pain greater than his wound, greater than the cleaning. 

"Strider...?" Jake's voice was soft, worried. Dirk didn't respond, other than tightening his grip on the thin blanket he'd been provided. 

"I just wanted to thank you. You saved my life, and I'm so very grateful. I killed the last one, you know. The man who chased me? The first man I've killed. But I've made my peace with God, for I know they were villains."

Dirk braced himself. They were making peace, severing ties. He couldn't look in Jake's face as he anticipated the words. 

"What I haven't made my peace with is you being injured. You're so damn determined to sacrifice yourself, Dirk. I see it, in how hard you train, in how vigilant you are, and today it nearly cost you your life. I don't understand it, Dirk. Is your job as my guard really so terrible that death seems the better option? We can relocate you if you'd like...look at me, won't you? Please, for once in your life just look at me, Dirk. In the eyes. And answer me." 

Dirk couldn't ignore the direct command. Slowly, he turned his head to look at Jake. It hurt, looking in those deep green eyes. Even Jake looked distressed. Dirk wanted to fix it, but didn't know how. 

"Thank you." Jake paused, biting his lip as the words lingered in the air. 

"You don't have to speak. You can just nod, or shake your head, you're allowed that at least. Though I do wish you'd break that ridiculous rule. It wasn't so terrible when you spoke back in the clearing, now was it? Do you really hate this job so much, Dirk? That death is better? Would you like a transfer?" 

Dirk shook his head. No, his job had been wonderful. Jake had been wonderful, it wasn't Jake's fault that Dirk was just a failure at everything he did. 

"Why, then? I can't understand you, Dirk. You're the best guard I've ever seen, why are you so desperate to throw your life away?" 

Dirk couldn't answer that. He wasn't sure if Jake meant him to. He lowered his gaze, shoulders hunched. Jake had never been angry with him before, and it felt terrible. He just wanted to protect the prince, and he couldn't do that properly if he had any hesitations about dying. Why did it make Jake angry? Dirk knew how kind Jake was, how he even pretended to value the lives of peasants as low as himself. Even now, Jake was pretending he wasn't afflicted by Dirk's voice, just to try and make him feel better. But a guard was an expendable. Why did Jake scold him for doing his job?

"Don't do that, Dirk." Dirk wasn't sure what he was to stop doing. He looked up at Jake helplessly, his shoulders hunching even more and his face beginning to crumple in his shame and confusion. 

"No, that! Stop it, Dirk, I'm sorry. You look like a pup with his tail trodden on, it's heartbreaking. I shouldn't have chided you. You needn't look so confused, Dirk, it's alright. I make mistakes too, you know. I know you're a hard worker, you never see any job half done. I should be pleased you're so dedicated, not angry. No, I'm not angry. I'm just...afraid. I was terrified, Dirk. Not that I'd be harmed, you're far too good at your job. But I was terrified for you. What would I have done if I'd lost you? You're the only one in the world who listens, besides gran and an old nursemaid who's long dead now. The other guards don't speak, of course, but you...you listen, Dirk. I can see it in your eyes. It's not just yourself you're hurting with your reckless abandon, you know. Other people care about you." 

Dirk stared at him, the look of hurt and confusion still on his face. Was Jake insinuating that he cared for him? He was nothing more than a pawn, he was more a goldfish than a man to royals. How could Jake possibly care for him? 

Jake sighed and reached out to brush Dirk's hair away from his face. It was dirty from lying on the ground now, and needed brushing. The least he could do was fix it. But Dirk jumped back like he'd been burned the moment Jake's fingers connected. 

"Don't, Strider. It's alright, I won't hurt you. You don't...you don't really believe those stories, do you? That you're below me? I'm only here by the chances of my birth, you're here for unrivaled skill and determination. Trust me, Dirk. Please. There's no difference between us." 

Dirk lay still, eyes wide with fear as he finally allowed Jake to stroke his hair away from his face. Jake didn't stop, either, he kept brushing his fingers through the strands in a manner Dirk supposed he would find relaxing, if the whole thing weren't utterly terrifying. The same electric feeling his words had held passed through him every time Jake's hand made contact. He'd be beheaded if someone saw them. But Jake had looked so sad. And now he had on a bittersweet smile, and Dirk had to admit his hands were warm and this felt nice. 

So Jake didn't think peasants were below him? He felt equal. How could that possibly be? Dirk had known from the start that Jake was kind and humble, but it was a fact that peasants were scum. Their voices painful and grating, their skin odorous, their touch harsh. Jake had always said odd things, acted as if he didn't scorn peasants, but Dirk had never believed the prince had actually believed that. But now it was finally starting to dawn that Jake truly meant what he said. How could Jake possibly think his near diety status was on par with Dirk's lowly peasanthood?

"You look like I've blown you away, old chap. Perhaps you'll agree with me soon. Maybe then you'll break some rules, we can chat and be pals. I'll show you, we're no more different than our horses...but you should rest for now. I'll show you when you've woken up. I snuck down a sleeping draft for you, I know I can never sleep when I'm in pain. Would you like it?" 

Dirk was still trying very hard to hold on to his shattered reality. Jake had brought him a luxury, Jake wanted to be friends. He nodded; sleep would be welcome right now, an escape from the pain and confusion. He reached for it, but Jake shook his head. 

"You lie still, you'll irritate your wounds. I've got it. It's alright, Dirk. Just trust me." Dirk lay still as Jake held a small vial to his lips. So little space existed between Dirk's lips and Jake's fingers, he could nearly kiss them. He didn't, instead swallowing the draft. It tasted like honeysuckle, and some sort of root. 

The effects were almost immediate. Dirk dropped his head as drowsiness swept through him, the dull pain replaced by a heaviness in his body. He looked at Jake, a little frightened by how strong the effects are. 

"Strong, isn't it? It's alright, it won't hurt you. Just rest, Dirk, you'll feel better." 

Dirk didn't even hear the full sentence. He was out cold, his chest rising and falling steadily. Jake smiled, glad to see him finally resting. He'd never seen Dirk asleep before, and it made him look years younger. Jake stroked his hair again, marveling at how all the harshness, the guarded and blank expression so quickly fell away. Dirk looked innocent. And tired, like he'd seen too much pain in his life. Jake knew next to nothing about his guard, and yet... 

He leaned in, planting a quick kiss on Dirk's cheek. 

"I've been wanting to do that for a very long time, you know. I think... I think I love you, Dirk Strider. And I don't think it's a sin, for I've never seen anything as pure as you. You can't be a devil's temptation, not when you're selfless, and kind, and true." Jake's voice was barely a whisper, a murmur from lover's mouth to lover's ear. 

"You saved my life, but I'm not sure I would've wanted you to if it cost you your own. But you're here, now. You're going to be alright. Maybe one day you'll believe me, and we can be friends, at least." Jake smiled sadly at the thought, then swept Dirk's bangs from his forehead to see his face.

"Rest well, my darling. I'll see you when you wake."

Jake kissed his temple once more, pulled the blanket up to Dirk's shoulders, and stole quietly out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably no updates for at least week or two, I'm about to enter tech week. I'm hoping this is angsty and gay enough to hold y'all over.


	7. Chapter 7

Dirk slept on through most of the day. The sleeping draught Jake had given him was powerful, even more so to a body unused to anything stronger than pepper or camomile. Jake instructed a message be brought the moment his guard woke up. 

The sky was orange by the time the messenger finally returned, with Jake in tow. Dirk had been coaxed to sit up, and was sipping at a glass of water. He had no appetite, which he knew wasn't good, but at least he was chilled instead of feverish. He could see the worry in Jake's face the moment their gazes met, and feel the gentle heat across his own face that meant he was blushing. 

Dirk watched Jake instruct the stand-in guard to wait at the door, so they could at least have some semblance of privacy. Dirk tugged the thin blanket up nervously as Jake approached, to hide his bare torso. He didn't know what to make of the way Jake's eyes lingered on his bare skin. Perhaps he was looking at the bandages, trying to gauge the wounds. Or fighting disgust at the explosion of freckles across Dirk's shoulders and arms. 

Jake sat by the bed, giving a gentle smile. 

"Hello, old chap. Nice to see you again. Feeling better?" 

Dirk nodded- his wounds didn't hurt as much, and his body didn't ache any more. But he was cold, and had an obnoxious hunger matched with an upset stomach. He needed to eat if he was going to get well, but even the thought of food made his stomach flip. 

"Excellent. Oh, hey, I've got something for you! It's not much, but I thought it might make you feel better." Jake grinned shyly, charmingly, as he produced a flower- an acacia, likely plucked from a bouquet either in Jake's quarters or in the many hallways. Ball shaped, and bright yellow, the color of the kingdom's flag. He placed it in the remaining water in Dirk's glass on his bedside table. Next he pulled out a small pouch and offered a pastry from it, his smile growing cheeky now. 

"I grabbed this from the breakfast table for you. Something nice for the eyes, and now something sweet for the tongue. You like strawberry, right?" 

Dirk looked at the treat warily, unsure. He'd had strawberries before, even jam. Just not the sugared stuff served in the castle. And not on delicate, flaky bread. Dirk ate meal and fruit and home grown veggies, his pay going to support his ailing village rather than being spent on frivolities. He'd never had food like this before. Any temptation to buy some was done away as soon as his freezing toes and hunger pains as a growing boy were remembered, and how those few coins could help the others in his village so much more. Still, there was no harm in eating this, since Jake had already brought it to him. 

He reached for it, but Jake shook his head again. "No, you're still weak. It's alright, old chap." 

If Dirk didn't know better, he'd think Jake was just grabbing at an excuse to feed him. That would be preposterous, of course. He must just be convinced that peasants were weaker than was actually true. Dirk still wasn't very hungry, but he couldn't deny Jake. He leaned forward to allow the prince to feed him the pastry, unsure what he was to expect. 

The taste was so strong, Dirk immediately felt his mouth flood with saliva and his eyes widen. The bread was about as expected- smoother, and lighter than the stuff he ate at home, obviously baked with lots of butter. He could taste the strawberries, but the thing that startled his tongue was the sugar. The only thing he could compare it to was honey, or fruit or honeysuckle. But this was much sweeter, and Dirk could even feel some of the grains on his tongue. His back teeth tingled, and it wasn't wholly pleasant. He couldn't imagine stuffing his face with sugar day after day, the way many members of the royal court seemed to enjoy. 

"Strong, isn't it? The cook put extra sugar in this, she's got a notorious sweet tooth. Then again, so do most of my court members. More?" 

Dirk shook his head, swallowing his bite. It was good, but a bit of a shock. One bite was enough, for now at least. He blinked rapidly to try and restore his neutral expression. 

"Alright, I won't stuff any more into you. I do declare, you seemed to take quite the shock. You've had sugar before, haven't you? The salary is plenty to pay for it..." Dirk turned away, only just catching a glimpse of Jake's frown. He didn't want Jake to know about his village, that terribly shabby place on the very outskirts of the kingdom. It was poor as anything, but Dirk had a certain pride in it. And it was always better to fly under the nose of royals. If his village ever improved, the court was likely to stick their noses in and try and raise taxes once more. Dirk was trying his best to keep his village from the brink of starvation, rather than push it over the line-thank you very much. He'd let Jake think he was either a hoarder or using his salary to pay off debt, the way many gamblers and others did. Better to have a black mark by his name than a starving child. 

"Well, you really must eat. It's been almost a day since you've had anything! I'll call for some soup immediately. You eat soup, do you not?" He barely waited for Dirk to nod before sending a messenger. Dirk cringed, hoping Jake would leave so he wouldn't actually have to choke it down. 

Jake didn't leave. He fussed instead, which left Dirk slightly bewildered. He'd never had anyone fuss over him before. Jake was plumping pillows, straightening blankets, and even insisted on flicking Dirk's hair from his eyes. Dirk supposed he'd lost the cord for it while swimming or fighting, and he'd like it back. He felt dreadfully unkempt-unwashed, hair untidy and hanging in his face. What a sorry sight he must be. 

Jake was so bold to even lay his hand on Dirk's forehead- Dirk flinched back, but was only retuned with a 'shhh' and the return of Jake's hand. He could feel his heart beating wildly, as he looked anywhere but at Jake. He wasn't hot, he could have told Jake that. He was cold, actually, but not so much that his head would betray that. 

"I won't hurt you. Please, Dirk, just trust me. I won't let you be punished for breaking the rules, I'll take it on myself if we are caught. I want us to be friends, Dirk. You nearly died for me, and I suddenly realized how absolutely little I even know about you. I know it's your job to protect me and all that grand stuff, but I think I at least deserve to know the man who may die for me one day. Won't you speak to me at all?" 

Dirk just stared, swallowing the lump in his throat. Why did Jake care so much? Didn't he realize how much it hurt, for him to go on about being close, when Dirk ached to touch him, to be with him? Now that he finally believed that Jake wasn't truly disgusted with him, it made it that much harder to keep his distance. Dirk wanted to speak to him, he did. But it wasn't his place. He could never have the thing he yearned for. 

He turned away as soon as he felt tears prick his eyes. He wouldn't cry, especially not in front of Jake. But as he closed his eyes, he felt Jake's warm hand on his bare shoulder, and the soft words of his adored prince chasing him. 

"I'm sorry. I just thought... You must understand, Dirk, how lonely it is. Don't be angry with me. Please, Dirk, just give me something. Anything. Just look at me, for gods sake, Dirk, pl-ease." 

Dirk whirled back around the moment he heard Jake's voice crack. He'd seen Jake cry before, the prince was a little prone to tears. But he'd never been the reason for them before. He could feel his eyes widen with panic- he'd never wanted to be the cause of Jake's pain. He'd make this better, no matter how many rules it broke. Besides, his ultimate pledge was to Jake, not to the kingdom. He reached out to take Jake's hands, but stopped just shy. He couldn't do it. He was too frightened. Even trying to initiate touch had him trembling. 

Jake closed the distance for him. Dirk felt the same electric feeling from earlier as their fingers intertwined, and with relief he saw Jake relax. Dirk was fairly sure the other guard had stepped outside- if not, the heavy curtain around his bedside should hide their touches and soft conversation from him anyways, as well as the medics. 

"Thank you." Jake sniffled, and Dirk smiled at him, to try and encourage him. "It's not so bad, right? We can be friends, right Strider?" 

Dirk nodded. Yes, he'd do anything for Jake. His curiosity was getting the better of him, as he allowed himself to start tracing his thumb over the curves in Jake's hand. It was so smooth, the dark skin so contrasted with his own, which was pale and freckled and scarred. Jake noticed what his was doing, his green eyes trained on the reverent movements of Dirk's hand. 

"Dirk...? You told me, in the glen, you didn't have a sweetheart. But I can't help but wonder- I mean, you're so gentle, and the look in your eyes sometimes- I've never seen it in a man without someone he holds dear. You've no family, no one to call your own. You live humbly, as far as I can tell, if you're unaccustomed to sugar, and your clothes are always simple. So... why are you here? You don't care for riches, you've no one to spoil, and yet I've never seen a more devoted guard. Who do your eyes shine for, Strider?" 

Dirk let go of Jake's hands. He must not have been careful enough. If Jake found out his feelings... why did it matter to Jake anyways? He had a guard, his life was safe. Why did he have to question it?

"Dirk?" Jake's voice was soft, as he took his hands again. He was so warm, so soft. "If you told me, perhaps I could help you. Perhaps... she...is outside of your class? Betrothed to another? I could help you advance classes, if needed. I could help you offer enough to rival any suitor. Provided she doesn't love the other, of course. I could show you how to woo her. A man like you... You could make anyone in the world fall in love with you, Dirk Strider. Tell me this, at least. Is there anyone?" 

Dirk nodded, eyes on the bed. He never wanted to lie to Jake, and the chances the prince would guess his feelings were slim. 

"I see." There was a slight strain to Jake's voice, that Dirk couldn't understand the reason for. "Does she know? That you love her?" 

Dirk shook his head. It wasn't a she at all, but no, the person didn't know. Of course not. 

"Oh. Well maybe you should tell her! You never know..." Jake trailed away as Dirk shook his head once more. "That bad, huh? I suppose I can relate. There's...someone, I wouldn't mind pledging my heart to. But it can never be. Not just because of status, there's more. Still, I suppose it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, eh old pal?" 

Dirk sighed and nodded. Yes, better to love from afar than not at all. This topic was causing him grief, though, so he let go of Jake's hands and looked away once more. 

He was saved having to give further response as the door to the infirmary was opened. Jake drew back the curtain, so the chef's assistant could deliver a bowl of soup. Dirk knew her- she'd fed the soldiers while he was being trained, and she possessed the same prowess in the kitchen as he did on the training ground. She was a sweet girl, and it was a comfort to see another familiar face. They still talked, on Dirk's days off. She only smiled at Dirk-despite already having most of the command in the kitchen, Jane was young and still officially only an assistant. She couldn't speak in front of the prince. Dirk returned the smile wearily, and ruffled her hair to show he still felt well enough to mess with her, before the short maiden curtsied once again to Jake and took her leave. 

"Is she..." Jake started before Jane was even out the door, but Dirk was already shaking his head. He knew what Jake was asking, and no, he didn't have romantic feelings for Jane. She was a lovely, sweet girl. But not the one who held his heart. 

"Ah. I see." 

Jake thankfully allowed Dirk to eat by himself this time, but Dirk still didn't have much appetite. He'd only taken a few spoonfuls before he placed the bowl back on the bedside table and slumped back against his pillow. 

"Oh, now that's hardly enough! It smells delicious, Strider, surely you can eat more than that?" 

Dirk gave him a mournful look, the hound dog face sharply contrasting his normal hawklike appearance. Jake sighed, picked up the bowl and offered another spoonful. 

"Come on now, old pal. You wouldn't want me to fret, now would you? Just eat half the bowl and I'll let you alone." 

Dirk resigned himself, accepting the spoonful. He expected Jake to give him control of the utensil again, but Jake continued in the ridiculous fashion. 

Dirk did have to admit, it went down a little easier this way. 

He felt he was finally going to have to refuse Jake, when the prince at last set the bowl back on the table and smiled sweetly at him. "There. See, it wasn't so bad." Jake smiled at smoothed Dirk's blanket, his hand brushing over one of the bandages. Dirk couldn't hold back his pained gasp, and Jake immediately snatched his hand back. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry! Are you alright?" 

Dirk nodded, eyes shut tight as he waited for the sudden flash of pain to finish dissipating. 

"Does it hurt terribly, Strider? You did take quite a beating." 

Dirk only shrugged. Yes, it had hurt terribly, but he didn't want to worry Jake something as inconsequential as his well being. 

"That bad, hm?" Jake was fixing the blanket again, taking great care to avoid the bandages. Dirk was able to relax, but he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep again. Not for a while. 

He soon realized that Jake was humming gently to him. The noble's fingers were threading through Dirk's hair, in a way that was slowly becoming more relaxing than shocking. Dirk could feel the tension draining from his body, as Jake slowly added the words. 

Dirk had no memories of ever being sung to. Only seeing the other children in his village with their mothers, the words sticking in his brain and placing an ache in his heart. He lay very quiet and still, trying to absorb every note and word of the song Jake began singing. He recognized it- the notes and words differed slightly from what he'd heard mothers sing to children when he lived in the village, but it was mostly the same. An old nursery rhyme. It was sweet, and soothing enough that Dirk could let his mind wander away from how sickly he felt. 

The song ended, but Jake went on. Dirk didn't recognize this one- it was some sort of sonnet, that sang sweetly about a courageous knight and the princess he protected, and a pure love between them. It was sweet, and happy, but the words only made Dirk ache inside. He turned away from Jake, in the hopes the song would be just a little more muffled.

"Dirk? What's wrong?" 

Dirk didn't answer. Hopefully Jake would just leave him alone, not cause him any more pain. 

"The...the song? Dirk, did I upset you?" Dirk could hear suspicion creep into Jake's voice. The guard, the Royal. Surely he'd be figuring it out now, and would be preparing to laugh in his face. 

"Did you hear what I said last night, perhaps? You were asleep, but- I-I was just so worried, perhaps I said something I shouldn't have." 

Dirk turned to look at him, his eyebrows knitted together. So Jake didn't suspect him. But what had he said? His heart was picking up speed- maybe Jake had said something akin to the song- no, that was ridiculous. Still, he couldn't extinguish the small spark of hope. 

"N-not to say I didn't mean it, if you- of course, if you don't- I'm sorry. You have no clue what I'm prattling on about, do you?" 

Dirk made himself sit up, staring fiercely at Jake. He needed to know, whatever it was. Desperately. 

Jake sighed, fidgeting as he sought for the words. "Before I tell you...is there any reason you would stop being my guard?" 

Dirk watched him, unsure. No, not mentally. Unless Jake wanted him to, or he wasn't fit to any more. He nodded at the bandages, to convey the message to Jake. 

"Yes, but you're going to get better! I mean, is there anything I might say, that might make you change...of course I wouldn't stop you, I'd never ask you to stay if you didn't want to, I just...I don't want you to go." 

Dirk continued to look him in the face as he gravely shook his head. He'd do anything for Jake, almost. Unless Jake completely went against the morals and standards he'd shown for the past three years, acted as a completely different man than the one Dirk had fallen in love with, Dirk would stay by his side. 

He watched Jake take a deep breath and force himself to calm down his fidgeting movement. 

"I...I do believe that I've fallen in love with you. Quite madly. I think you're clever, and gorgeous, and lovely. Maybe not the most charming of blokes, but a good man. It doesn't matter we'd never spoken, or touched before...only day before yesterday. It feels like a lifetime ago. I feel I know you a great deal more than I should, I can see all your little expressions and how devoted you are to your job and how kind your eyes are, and I think they've shown me more about you character than you care to have let on. I don't expect you to return my feelings, of course. But I don't believe it's a sin, either, as the new laws state. If you're at all uncomfortable with this, I'll give you shining reviews for a transfer, with absolutely no loss in pay. But I had to tell you, in case there's even the smallest chance..." 

Dirk hadn't been listening for a while now. He was gaping at Jake, his eyes raking over every inch of his face. He wasn't sure what he was looking for- maybe trying to see if the words were really coming from Jake's lips, or trying to memorize every detail of the moment in case it really was a dream. 

Jake looked uncomfortable at Dirk's silence, standing up from his chair. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I just had to know. We can discuss a transfer when you're better, but I should leave-"

Dirk reached out in a flash, grabbing Jake's hands. He dully registered that it was the first time he'd been the one to initiate the touch, but that wasn't the important thing. Some twist of fate had given him Jacob English, and like hell was he going to throw that away. 

Jake stood stock still as Dirk bowed his head to gingerly kiss Jake's fingers. It was all he dared to do, to show his returned affection without forgoing an air of subservience. 

"O-oh. Is that to say you...." Jake looked apprehensive, but he smiled when Dirk nodded solemnly. The whole thing felt absolutely raw and intimate, like they'd stripped away all the barriers between them. And yet to any other person in the kingdom, they were strangers. 

"Thank you." Jake smiled at him, and Dirk's chest felt like the first rays of sun after 19 years of cloudy gray.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp


	8. Chapter 8

The following days passed slowly. Dirk and Jake didn't see much of each other- the prince's temporary guard insisted he attend even the most pointless meetings and lessons, and was unresponsive to Jake's pleadings to just see his old guard for fifteen minutes. Dirk spent most of his time either exercising gently to help himself recover, arguing with healers on how much he could exercise, or sleeping. By the time Jake managed to drop by in the evenings, Dirk would be out cold. Jake desperately wanted to speak with him, but didn't have the heart to wake Dirk up when he looked so exhausted. 

Dirk wasn't told to go home until Saturday evening- Sunday being the Sabbath, and his day off, he wouldn't see Jake again until Monday. He couldn't wait- he wanted so badly to finally speak with Jake, in the privacy of the prince's quarters. Anything could happen- he'd be allowed to touch Jake, maybe even kiss him, he could engage in all the tender affections he'd dreamt about for years. Just thinking about it had his heart racing. 

Still, sitting around, grinning like an idiot and daydreaming didn't get a man anywhere in life. Dirk knew he was due a visit back to his village, to check how things were going. Nobody from the outskirts knew how to write, so Dirk couldn't depend on a letter to warn him if things turned sour. He made do with visiting every few weeks, checking to make sure the funds he sent were enough, that his people and the livestock were well. His people also liked to hear how things were in the castle- how the queen and her prince fared, their only hopes amid the council of greedy nobles. 

Dirk was up before dawn on Sunday, preparing his horse for the long ride. After Jake had killed the ruffian who'd stolen her, the animal had been returned to the stable and treated with the best of care to help recover from the shock. Dirk was very fond of horses, and had grown very attached to the horse issued to him with his position as guard. Briann was her name, but Dirk had shortened it to Bree. It suit her better, he thought. 

It would be lunch by the time he arrived in his village, and very late in the evening by the time he got back to the castle. It really should be a two-day trip, both for his own sake and for Bree's. But Dirk only got one day off a week, and he couldn't even entertain the notion of only visiting his village on holidays. Who knows what could happen if he did that. 

Riding was painful on Dirk's still-healing body, but the warm summer air, the fading stars, and the solitude were therapeutic. He had time to reflect on what had happened between himself and the prince. And what could happen next. 

The two scenarios he could think of were Jake retracting his love, or not. If he did, Dirk would grit his teeth and bow, and they'd go back to how things were before. If he didn't take it back- if Jake really was so insane as to love him, then Dirk wasn't sure what he'd do. It was almost harder than Jake not loving him. After years of daydreaming and wishing and hoping against hope, here it was. And it was terrifying. What if he messed it up? What if Jake fell out of love with him? What if they fought, what if it all came crashing down and Dirk didn't even have his secret, solitary hope in the horrible, horrible world? 

The first ray of sunlight peeking over the trees distracted him from his thoughts. Bree was trotting at a steady pace, and didn't seem to be nervous at returning to the woods after her scare only a few days ago. She was hardy, Dirk admired her for that. He wished he could say he felt the same, that he didn't feel his heart in his throat as they moved past the familiar scenery- once a safe place, a road home, a road to Jake. Now another place he wasn't wanted. 

Getting scared wasn't going to help the situation. Dirk resisted the urge to have Bree pick up the pace- he'd rather she save her strength, so they could travel back quickly when it was night. The best thing to do would be to lose himself in his thoughts again, as long as he kept a good lookout. 

Dirk was a clever man when it came to tinkering and sword fighting, but not when it came to people. He fretted over Jake for hours as he rode, but couldn't come up with anything that seemed appropriate behavior for when he returned to work the next morning. He'd have to let Jake lead, and just focus on fighting the tidal wave of fear and awkwardness he knew he'd be feeling. Hopefully he wouldn't embarrass himself out of Jake's affections.

The woods had cleared hours ago, and the horse and rider traveled across flat land, on dirt trails surrounded by tall grass and scant shrubbery and trees. Dirk's village wasn't nearly as picturesque as the castle grounds, but he held a certain pride for it nonetheless. His people had survived through more strife than the royals had ever known, and with his new wages they were finally reaching stability instead of balancing precariously on the brink of survival. Dirk was proud to be from a village of such hardy people. 

It wasn't a large village; the fields were small enough that even the far ends were within shouting distance from the huts. They kept a lot of livestock, sheep and goats and cows and pigs and mules, poultry and the like. In the winter, knitted and crocheted clothing from wool was sold at market to sustain them, but in summer they all mainly focused on growing food to get everyone through the harsh winters. Dirk could see the bright colors of hats and fabric-wrapped heads dotted among the crops as Bree crossed the threshold of Dirk's hometown. 

One of the younger boys, a spry redhead at the edge of the field was first to notice him- he shouted Dirk's arrival across the field and bounded up to intercept the horse. The boy was about twelve, bright blue eyes and more freckles than Dirk all over his lean, gangly body. He had a big smile, crooked front teeth, and couldn't look more like a cheery, mischievous little satyr even if he grew goats legs. 

Dirk stopped the horse and slid off to close the distance between them, managing a smile as James immediately started chattering away. James was very clever, and more talkative than anyone Dirk had ever met. His mother worried it would get him into trouble, but Dirk found it charming. He could feel some of his worries start to fade as James filled him in- the village was doing exceptionally well. Summer was always easiest, and all there was for Dirk to do was thatch a few roofs. Easily done before he needed to leave. James held Dirk's company hostage all the way to the barn, all through the process of removing Bree's gear and letting her out to the grazing pasture. Dirk heard a lot of the fluff that plagued twelve year old minds, but some important news as well. Alene Byrne was pregnant- a good time, Dirk supposed. Fall was best for a pregnancy- the mother wouldn't be too heavily pregnant through the harsh winter, and the baby would be born just after the cold,into the warm weather and after the sick season. There were still many illnesses that came in summer, but food supply was better, and the babe would be stronger. Still, summer was nearly as good, as long as spring came quickly this year. And any child conceived or birthed in midsummer would bring luck to the family. Alene had a strong husband, and no other children to distract her. They'd make a fine family. Dirk would make sure to congratulate them before he headed back to the castle.

Amid all the mindless chatter, Dirk had noticed that James seemed to be dancing around something. He kept looking at the ground, scuffing his bare feet, or starting a sentence and then changing it. Dirk didn't press- he knew James would get around to the subject quicker if left to his own devices. 

And get around to it he did. 

"...and Nick's been recruited for the army. There's talk at the market of attacking our neighbors, trying to gain some land. Some of the older people around here say that they'll raise taxes too, to pay for it...but they won't, right? Not when they're taking all the sons that can handle most of the work. We could probably spare some food now that there's one less mouth to feed, but...but we can't grow as much without Nick. They won't do that, right Dirk?" 

Dirk felt a sickness in his stomach as he stared down at the boy. Nick was James's older brother, only 15. Too young for the army. Dirk was a year younger than James when he'd faked his way into the army, but he'd had an exceptional gift with a sword, everybody knew that. And there hadn't been a war going on then- battles, yes, there was always conflict with the neighboring kingdoms. He'd been snatched up by the guard trainers before he'd ever gone anywhere serious, and even then he'd had a years training before he'd gone anywhere. At 15, Nick would be old enough to be sent off to fight before he'd had any proper training. James's chances of survival were, ironically, better. 

Dirk forced himself to swallow, nod, and smile. As long as he didn't show he was worried, James would be alright. 

"Of course not, that would be silly. I doubt they'll raise taxes, not after planting season is already done. And I'm sure Nick will be fine, there's always rumors of war. He's likely just been recruited...because he's such a strapping young man." 

Dirk could see Nick from here. Curly red hair like his brother, he was herding sheep with one of the few dogs in the village helping him. He was a strong boy, but nothing much more exceptional than any hardy village fifteen year old. A fine worker, and he'd make a finer husband in a few years time. But nothing special. Nothing that would help him get extra training, or keep him from getting cleaved straight through. 

Dirk ruffled James's hair, glad to see him break into a relieved smile. He must be getting a little better with his people skills. 

"Go help your brother, I've got to see a few people before I head back. Is your mother in the house?" After a nod from James, Dirk headed to the small house- more of a cabin, really, that housed the two boys, their mother and their grandfather. 

Marella O'Connel already had a kettle boiling when Dirk knocked. She was a clever woman, and had rightly guessed that Dirk would stop by after hearing about her eldest son. Dirk didn't see Jack, her elderly father, but the hat on one of the chairs let him know that the man was still in decent enough health to be up and about. Marella handed him a cup of tea- the cup was homemade from clay, and the shape was a bit wobbly, not to mention much thicker than the castle's paper-thin china teacups. It was a welcome weight in Dirk's hands. 

The O'Connels were all very thin, tall and wiry. Marella looked more like a willow tree than a woman- she was taller than Dirk, and had straight blonde that fell to her waist when it wasn't up in its usual topknot, as it was now. The whole family had the same face- wide blue eyes and freckles the color of 'paprika' (a spice the royals had become fond of) all over themselves, upturned noses and wide, kind smiles. They were from the North, Jack being the first in his generation to live in this village. The boys had inherited all their looks from their mother's side, the red hair from their grandfather. Dirk couldn't remember what Samuel, Marella's late husband looked like- he'd died soon after she'd become pregnant with James, and Dirk was quite young at the time. Samuel wasn't often talked about, and Dirk never saw any reason to bring him up. 

Dirk waited for Marella to sit in her second-best chair, then took one of the floor cushions for himself. The best chair was Jack's, or for more important company. Dirk knew the humble gesture wouldn't go unnoticed, or unappreciated. He sipped silently at his tea, waiting for Marella. 

"It was kind of you to come see me, then. I heard James shout that you were here, I'm sure he's filled you in? Of course he did. James...he's getting older, you know, and he's already quite strong for his age. Not been sick a day in his life, unless you count hay fever. He'll be able to fill in, once Nicholas leaves in the fall. And dad, he's still quite strong, and he's gotten quite creative in his old age. He knits and crochets, and we sell them at market. His hands have gotten a bit shaky, this year, though, and they're getting worse... still, we've got Nick till after harvest, and there's quite a lot of sitting around inside during the winter. Not too much work will be missed, and with those royals feeding one of my mouths it shouldn't be too hard to...to make up the difference." 

Dirk stayed quiet and let her talk, all her sentences tumbling out hushed and hurried. There was a 'stiff upper lip' lifestyle in his village, and he knew Marella wouldn't have had much chance to talk about it. It would do her well to talk to Dirk, even if it was just about how the rest of the O'Connel family would fare without her eldest son. She was taking it well, Dirk had noted, being realistic. She hadn't mentioned her worries for Nick's safety, only her father and youngest son. Knowing when to cut your losses was what it took to survive in a place like this. 

"They might put him on the back lines. Or train him in archery, it's getting more popular in battle recently." Dirk knew the words were empty- the poorest went on the front lines, the men whose deaths would be more consequential went in the back. Marella would know they were empty sentiments as well, but someone should say it, to offer just a sliver of hope. "There may not even be a war. It would do James some good, to have a little hope. Try and put on a smile, for him. Save him the worry until...the official news about Nick comes." 

Marella nodded, but seemed more interested in the steam rising from her cup. Dirk realized she may be hurting even more than she let on- even assuming there was always more beneath the surface, Dirk was known for being a bit crass when it came to people. There was no use trying to console a grieving mother, but there was use in helping her keep the remains of her family alive. 

"Ginger root, is said to help with the hand shaking. Try giving some tea to Jack. And I'll see what I can do to give you some extra assistance- it's not easy, adjusting to one less person around." 

Marella nodded, and the two sipped silently at their tea. There wasn't much left to say, and neither was exceptionally gifted with words. Dirk was at least reassured by the fact that Marella was one of the toughest people in the village. She handled losing her husband and supporting two small children on her own, she even took Dirk in for a short time when he was younger. Dirk didn't know if Nick really would be sent to fight, but he knew that nothing he could do would change what the royal council decided. And there was no use worrying- Marella was right, the only thing to do was prepare to keep going. 

After Marella's, Dirk moved on. He couldn't stay more than a few hours if he was going to be back in time to be ready for work in the morning. 

Dirk gave a quick congratulations to the new expecting parents, then worked through the heat of the day repairing roofs. He would have liked to take off his shirt, but was self conscious of both the large bandages still wrapped around him and the multiple pairs of eyes he felt staring. Dirk didn't bother turning, to save both parties the embarrassment, and it didn't matter, honestly. Likely just a few of the girls, and maybe one or two of the boys. The religions in the smaller villages weren't nearly as strict as the one the nobles shared, and being gay wasn't a problem this far out. The best wine at the closest market was sold by two married women, and nothing had ever been said about it. As long as those closer to the castle didn't find out, it wouldn't cause trouble. Of course, arranged marriages that would be financially advantageous were more popular than marriage for love in the villages, but Dirk hoped he'd be able to get his people to a well enough place that they wouldn't have to keep those traditions.

After the last roof, Dirk still had an hour or two left before he needed to get back. He'd head back to the stables and eat there, let Bree rest a while longer and then start back to the castle. He wiped the sweat from his brow, wishing again that he didn't have those stupid, shameful bandages, so he could take off his shirt. His whole torso ached, even though he'd only done fairly light work compared to his usual training. He'd be sore as hell tomorrow, but he was fairly sure Jake wouldn't have anything overly exerting planned. 

Dirk was on the brink of spiraling into another panicked musing over what would happen with Jake tomorrow, when a voice called his name. Looking around brought him to rest on a familiar and wrinkled face, leathery looking in the fading golden sunlight. 

"Boy, I know you're not having dinner with that horse again. Six days a week without talking, and he goes to eat dinner with a horse. Save that sandwich for later- don't give me that look, I know you haven't cooked- come have a hot meal with old Veda, we all know she needs the company. I've got enough to spare, come on." 

Dirk pushed his bangs away from his eyes, glad he'd thought to tie the rest back. Veda was the oldest woman in the village- she was tiny, had more gray than black left in her hair, and looked a little like dried beef. Her daughter and granddaughter still lived in the village, and Veda had taken Dirk in for nearly a full year when he was a boy. He owed her his life, and he supposed she was as close to a mother as any he'd know. He followed her into the one-room cabin she'd stubbornly refused to let anyone expand for decades, taking the extra floor cushion beside the pot while she served him fish and chopped onions. 

"Eat while it's hot, you're pale. What're you pale for? You've enough freckles to tell me you've been in the sun, so out with it. Are you sick? Sudden shock?" 

Veda never missed anything, that was for sure. Dirk swallowed his first bite before setting his plate on the floor and lifting his shirt to show his stomach. 

"A few days ago, some bandits attacked the prince in the woods. I'm not sure they knew who he was, but they were slave traders. Have everyone here keep a good lookout, keep the dogs outside at night to alert everyone if they do come." Dirk let his shirt down as Veda nodded solemnly. 

"Aye. What's this 'prince' business? Call him by his name, boy, we all know it. How's that crush going? He's nearly twenty, I'm surprised he's not betrothed yet." 

"The Queen hasn't said much on it, and...Jake...refuses to speak on it in meetings." Dirk took another bite, stalling. Veda would be happy for him, he had no doubt about that. Aside from his own feelings, the prince's love placed on a once peasant would be insanely advantageous; the village could receive tax cuts, lavish gifts from the castle, protection, anything. A more practical marriage than any arrangement that could be made between any other villager. 

"He...told me, while I was in the infirmary, that our feelings were mutual. That he-he loved me as well. Nothing has been said to anyone else, and Jake doesn't think it to violate his religion, although the other nobles may not share his opinion." 

"Bloody hell! Where do I start, boy. Are you sure you didn't crack your head when you got those stabs? No? Bloody hell... I doubt the others will agree with him, but all that really matters is the Queen. And she's got a good head on her shoulders, you've got a good chance. Provided you can avoid getting assassinated once the others find out. But that's your job, so you should be fine." Veda gave a sly grin, winking a shriveled eye at him. 

"What're you doing here, if you haven't spoken to him? You should've gone to him, you stupid boy, instead of coming back here." 

Dirk shrugged sheepishly, and Veda smiled again. 

"Well, at least we know you're humble. And you haven't forgotten about us back at home. We can always depend on you, Dirk, you're a good man. We really must teach someone around here how to read, so we can send letters instead of you riding back every several weeks. Although with this new war they're talking about, they'll be taking all our best boys. We'll need you for repairs now that they're killing our best stock." 

Dirk winced, but didn't correct her. He wouldn't put it past the council, who were all very land hungry and hated the peasants. Ants, they called them, or peas, shortening the word to poke fun at the inconsequence of a peasant's life. 

They ate in relative silence for the rest of the meal. Dirk was even worse at conversation now that he was forbidden from it six days a week, and Veda was comfortable with silence. If she didn't think there was anything left to say, she wouldn't say it. 

Dirk was soon on his way, thanking Veda for the meal and on his way to fetch Bree. The light really was fading now, and the night would be crisp. Just right for the evening ride ahead. Dirk was so busy admiring the night air and the chirping crickets that he nearly ran straight into another person, only missing her by a quick sidestep. 

The girl was tall, with short, thick black hair that reached just to her shoulders. She must have just finished checking on the livestock. She had large, dark eyes, framed with thick lashes, and a sharp, stately nose. Her whole manner was stately but guarded. A beautiful girl who'd been hurt, and still expected the next blow to come. 

"Tara." Veda's granddaughter, a year older than Dirk. They'd been betrothed when they were young. They'd broken it off a few months into Dirk's initiation as guard, when he realized he wasn't just disinterested in women, he was interested in the other gender very much instead. She'd never understood it; they were a good match, and Dirk didn't have any other offers. Leaving a future marriage just to ogle at others, with little to no future prospects, wasn't something done in the villages. Things had been tense and awkward between them ever since, and Dirk accepted every ounce of the blame. 

"You look...beautiful, if I may. Your name suits you, you know. Star Queen." Not something he usually said, but Tara truly was beautiful. And she'd been so hurt when Dirk had broken it off. He owed her compliments. 

"Thank you." Tara smiled softly at him, her dark eyes sweet but unsure "You're looking...a little pale. Are you alright?" 

Dirk nodded quickly, brushing it off. He didn't want anyone worrying about him, not when they all had so many other problems.

"Just a cold. On its way out, now... I hear you and Simon are engaged. Congratulations." 

Tara's smile grew a little wider, and she nodded again. "Yes, we are, thank you. I'm very happy with him. A good match, he's quite well off and very gentle. The wedding isn't until winter, we thought it might lift people's spirits in the hard months. Provided...that he's not drafted before then. Will you be at the wedding?" 

Dirk nodded, admiring Tara's strength. She was quiet, and many thought of her under the trope of the sweet, innocent doe eyed girl who'd had her heart broken. Dirk knew her to be much more; she was quiet, but only because she didn't waste words, and she liked to watch people. She was gentle, and showed her hurt more than most people in the village, but carried an inner strength. She never showed any doubt that she would carry on, no matter what the circumstances. 

"I wouldn't miss it for anything. You'll be a beautiful couple, Tara. I wish you every happiness." 

She smiled once more as Dirk knelt to kiss her hand, but it faded when he stood up and their eyes met. 

"And you? You were always so lonely, Dirk, you lost your whole family and you were never too keen on making friends. I don't hold it against you any more that you left, I just want you to find the same happiness that I have. Have you found anyone, yet?" 

"I... I did. We don't know much, if it's going to work out yet. But we know we both have feelings for each other, and that it's rare for us. I'll be alright, Tara. Don't you worry about me." 

Tara smiled again, and it looked for a moment like she had nothing troubling her. They felt like friends again, now that Tara had found someone to do what Dirk couldn't, but she deserved. She stepped forward and hugged Dirk, her thin, tall frame fitting well against his. Dirk hugged her back, but all he could think about was how different Jake would feel to hold. He'd be shorter, and broader and more muscular. Tara smelled like milk and honey and livestock, and Jake smelled like a thousand different scents from soaps and exotic foods, inks and books and candles and smells Dirk couldn't place. Holding Tara was like holding a sister, and Jake would be a lover. 

They smiled, each appreciating the silent forgiveness that had passed between them, and Dirk kissed her forehead sweetly. The two figures broke apart, and before the sun could dip below the horizon Bree and the prince's guard were back on the journey towards the castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow lotta notes for this one 
> 
> 1) sorry this took so long, writer's block is a bitch. Will probably be doing some more editing, but I was sick of staring at it and you guys really deserved a new chapter. 
> 
> 2) I am not updated on Homestuck, and I probably won't be reading any updates until summer vacation. Forget canon, forget realistic characters, I'm trash and I'm too busy with school and writing gay trash for you guys to actually read the work that's inspired this. You're welcome. 
> 
> 3) yes, I know I'm evil and you guys really wanted Dirk and Jake to do the kissy-wissy this chapter. But hey, I wanted a unicorn when I was 9 and look how that turned out. Dirk did get to talk in this chapter, as requested. But I promise I'll have the gay stuff posted as soon as possible.
> 
> 4) I have also realized that chapters are getting longer each time, it's because I'm horrible and inconsistent and it's probably not going to fix itself. Ur welcum


	9. Chapter 9

Dirk reported for duty bright and early on Monday; slouched a little in pain, and with a pale face and dusky circles under his eyes, but there nonetheless. He'd wanted to get there before Jake woke up, although he normally came later on Mondays. But today was special, today could change everything. 

Dirk relieved the night guard of his vigil, taking his place at the foot of Jake's bed. Night guards had it pretty easy- they could whittle, or read, or mend, or do any number of small jobs while they kept watch and the prince slept. Night guards sat in a chair pulled up to the foot of their noble's bed and tried to stay awake; Dirk had to run around and listen to all the meetings where nobles proposed ways to raise taxes and starve their people, he had to train much harder, and get slashed through the stomach. Still, it was worth it in exchange for Jake's waking company. 

The prince's room was more lavish than any Dirk could imagine, though he supposed the Queen and some of the more pompous council members likely had more luxurious quarters. Nevertheless, he was mildly stunned every time he entered the Prince's room. Thick coffee-black wooden doors with a lock the size of Dirk's palm guarded the room, symbols of the kingdom masterfully carved into the glossy wood. Inside the decor was much more colorful. Jake adored the theatre, and had commissioned paintings of his favorite works to swarm the walls, to the point that the gray stone only seldom showed face. Jake had his collection of archery paraphernalia on the inside wall. Although now, to Dirk's distaste, large hunting rifles had joined them. They were loud, and smelled after each shot, and lacked the precision that a sword or an arrow possessed. Still, they were more powerful and had a longer range than any weapon short of a cannon, so Dirk had to grant them some admiration. 

While it was the Queen who was best known for her adoration of flora, some of that love had spread to Jake. He had only a few plants scattered about his room, but the vines had taken to creeping up the walls and around the stone columns, the bedposts, anything they could find. Dirk supposed they thrived on how well-lit the room was- two stately glass windows with intricate framework reached from floor to ceiling, flooding the room with light. Beside the windows was the changing screen, behind which lay an enormous wardrobe even more ornate than the doors. Inside were lavish clothes, even the simplest of which were more intricate and better made than anything Dirk owned, and expensive enough to feed a whole family for at least full day. And that was opening the budget to expensive grain. 

Beside the wardrobe lay Jake's desk-. It was made of the same wood as the door, with similar carvings across the drawers. Jake sat and wrote often, and beside the desk sat the fireplace that kept the room warm when it wasn't winter. Large, and ornately carved just like everything else in the room. Dirk knew how meticulous and dedicated such work took-he was no sculptor, but his inventions and contraptions took what he imagined to be the same amount of patience and devotion. 

Beyond Jake's room lay the bathroom, a shining white mass of tile and gold accents. Dirk seldom entered that room, preferring to use the less lavish castle restrooms when he needed. He'd been in there a few times, and the sheer whiteness of it, how clean and pristine it was, made him nervous. He loved the idea of such a clean place, but a dirty peasant inside such a clean white room couldn't be right. 

Dirk turned, at last resting his eyes on the reason he was here. Jake lay in an enormous canopy bed- the quilt was embroidered with more threads, patterns and designs than Dirk cared to count, the intricate golden thread spiraling across the mass of golden-yellow fabric that covered the prince. The same fabric hung from the posts of the bed like a kind of tent, the regal patterns of suns and dragons and the like all contrasting with the wildness of the leaves and vines creeping up the dark wooden bedposts. They reminded Dirk of Jake- a wild, humble thing amid the mass of luxury and regality. 

Jake shifted, drawing Dirk's attention away from the decor, but then he quieted down again. Dirk knew it was silly, but Jake never failed to strike him as the most beautiful thing in any room. Perhaps because expensive items caused a pang of jealousy for what that price could do for his village, perhaps because Jake was simply so lovely. The sun was only high enough for light to begin to creep through the windows, but it would eventually flood the entire room. A thick stripe of light spanned across the covers over Jake's torso, but his face remained in shadow. Dirk sank into the chair at the end of the bed to admire him, propping his head in his hands. Dotted freckles like daisies in a field, his thick hair tumbled about after sleeping. In his thin sleep shirt, Dirk could see Jake's muscular arms, broadened after years with a bow and basic defense training. The white cotton garment had a 'V' for the neck with only a leather cord keeping it from gaping too indecently. Still, Dirk could see Jake's tanned chest, and was free to imagine about Jake's body and ways he might interact with it-the strong arms holding him up against a wall as Jake worked away at his neck, or Jake gasping, mumbling broken words as Dirk let his mouth roam over his chest. Now that Jake had confessed his feelings, Dirk didn't feel quite as disgusting or helpless when he imagined such scenarios. 

Jake stirred again, and Dirk stood up straight to try and conceal his wandering thoughts and gaze as the prince's eyes opened. Normally sharp and keen, the green was now dulled from sleep. Jake's gaze rested on Dirk at the foot of the bed, but he didn't react at first. He blinked once, twice, and Dirk felt his stomach twisting into knots before Jake finally registered that Dirk was there, a huge grin spreading across his whole face. Dirk felt his heart flutter- that smile was because of him, he was the one that had made Jake smile like he'd never had a sad thought in his life. 

"Dirk!" Jake was suddenly scrambling to get out of bed, and stumbling over to Dirk. It looked for a moment as if he were going to throw his arms around the guard, but he stopped just short of the action. After so long with such strict boundaries, of having no idea if such gestures would be welcome, it was hard to break old habits. 

"You-you shouldn't be up and about yet, you've not had nearly enough rest!" Jake buried his joy enough to fret, but finally built the courage to shyly loop his arms around Dirk's neck. Dirk had to fight a shiver- it was okay, Jake had initiated it. Despite a lifetime of knowing touch with a royal was taboo, that he was filthy, something about Jake's confirmed affections made the laws seem less important. Jake overshadowed the ingrained learnings of worthlessness. Jake was next in line for the throne, for rule over the entire kingdom- if he said that Dirk was worthy of his love, then his word was new law. Even with the guilt of their embrace, Dirk felt something new that he'd only been able to imagine before now. A warm glow in his belly that seemed to radiate through his skin, like the golden halo that surrounds everything when the sun rises and sets; he and Jake were their own sunrise, and the rest of the room, of the castle, of the world, was darkness. 

Dirk couldn't stop his heart hammering as he circled his arms around Jake's waist- the latter moved closer, his cheek coming to rest against Dirk's shoulder. Dirk was feeling a little faint at this point, but said nothing. He was holding Jake close, and it was terrifying but it was real, and it was all he'd ever wanted. 

"I won't fuss at you today, not when I'm this happy. And I'm so happy, I never imagined that this day would come. I've dreamed about it, and then when I finally thought we may be connecting I thought I'd lost you, and all of a sudden you're here, in my arms and I can't tell you how grand it feels." Jake tilted his head up to beam up at Dirk as he continued his monologue. Dirk was focusing on processing everything- how warm Jake was, how strong his arms felt around his neck, how easily his waist fit in his arms. And Jake was still smiling, he looked so damn happy and it was all because of Dirk. He had to agree, once he ignored the lightheadedness and anxiety, this was the grandest feeling in the world. 

"Say something, won't you? I've been dying for you to get back, don't just stand there in silence now! We can talk now, in private, and there's so much I want to talk to you about, I know nothing about you and I can finally learn. Go on, say something!" 

Dirk wasn't sure what to do. He felt his mouth open, but couldn't think of anything to force out. This was the first time he'd really be talking to Jake- as himself, not just telling him an escape plan. As much as he'd longed for this moment, now that it was here it was terribly overwhelming. Whatever he said now had to be respectful, but charming, but witty and holy shit how long had he been standing here with his mouth open? 

"Um... H-hello." 

Oh, beautiful, Strider. Way to wow one of the most educated and elite men in the entire kingdom. Dirk felt his face grow hot and shame bloom in his stomach. He wished he'd died back in the clearing, to spare this humiliation. 

Jake surprised him by laughing- not a cruel mocking one, but light and amused. "Hello to you too, old bean. I'm sorry to make you so nervous, I forget what an anxious chap you can be. Don't be afraid; we've known each other for years, after all, it's about time we've had a conversation. Can you manage anything else?" 

Dirk was slightly stunned by Jake's offer of patience and understanding- he'd just embarrassed himself, and Jake was still happy, and willing to try again. He nodded, swallowed, and tried again. 

"Forgive me, my lord. I'm not...the most sociable, and it's still trying, to speak to you after years of silence. I've long...hoped for this day, I've harbored feelings for you for longer than I care to admit. Now that it's here, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself." The words came slowly, and each one felt like a heavy stone he had to move from the depths of his belly, up an impossible vertical mountain to his throat, and through a locked door without a key that was his mouth to let them tumble heavily into the air, where they still didn't sound right. But Jake's eyes were gleaming, and Dirk briefly wondered if even Sisyphus would mind so much, if his stone were dedicated to such a glory. 

"There's nothing to be forgiven, I imagine one's voice becomes a bit of a rusty tool when it's shut up for so long." Jake smiled warmly, encouragingly at him, but it only lasted a moment before he was frowning again in concern. 

"You're trembling, Strider. Sit on the bed, I'm not convinced you're ready to be on your feet yet." Dirk didn't have the courage or the opportunity to protest, as Jake gently pushed him to sit on the edge of the bed. 

"It's nothing-just nerves, your majesty, no need to fret over me." He couldn't help how nervous he felt. All his senses were kicking into overdrive, trying to find any sign that this wasn't real, that something was wrong that he needed to fix or run away from before something went terribly wrong. Meanwhile, Jake was ignoring his protests and placing two fingers on the side of Dirk's neck to check his pulse. The intimate proximity didn't help Dirk's shaking, and he was sure his pulse was racing now. Jake was still frowning, his thick, groomed eyebrows knitted together. Dirk had assumed he was concerned over his racing heart, then noticed Jake's eyes had wandered towards the back of his neck. Still red and warm from sun after thatching roofs through the heat of the day. 

"You're sunburnt. What were you doing, Dirk? You shouldn't be working when you're injured, you won't be able to regain your strength properly." 

Dirk looked down at his lap- he didn't want Jake upset with him, but there was no way in hell he was just going to skip seeing his village, injuries be damned. 

"I had a ride yesterday. And thatched some roofs, back in my home village. The sun was bright, that's all. It's a hard journey for a day, my lord, so I'm afraid I'm not quite in my prime today. But a bit of nerves won't stop me from protecting you, I swear it. I won't let another threat come close to you, I won't lapse as I did in the clearing, I'll train-" 

"Hush, Strider. Don't you dare blame yourself for what happened back there, you did everything you could. Had it been anyone else there, I doubt I would've gotten away so easily, if at all. You were very brave, and you served excellently. I don't want to hear another word on it." Jake sat to Dirk's left on the bed, leaning in and giving his stubbled chin a quick peck. 

"I didn't know you traveled back to your home. Do you do it every week?" Jake guided him away from the sensitive topic of the clearing towards what he hoped was a calmer one. Dirk shook his head, leading Jake to the next question. "I see. Is it far from the castle?" 

"Rosthena, your grace. It's very small, on the eastern border of the kingdom." 

"Rosthena? You rode all the way to Rosthena and back in a day? You must be exhausted. But... how did you become so skilled in swordsmanship, coming from such a small village?" 

"I wasn't born there. I'm... not sure where I was born, my family was very secretive about it and died before seeing fit to divulge me the knowledge. The people in my village tell me it runs in my blood. My brother, who died when I was a child, held more skill than myself, and our mother before him. I showed prowess with any blade- scythes, shears and the like. And once I joined the army, a sword felt natural. I'm devoted to training, which I suppose aided my progress." Dirk knew very little about his heritage- all the less grandeur to even try and compare to Jake. 

"Well, I am very glad the fates brought you to me." Jake smiled warmly at him, glad to see that Dirk had finally calmed a little. He didn't look as nervous, and the trembling had subsided. He shyly reached out and took his hand- Dirk squeezed their fingers, entranced by the brown stripes between his own slender and pale digits. 

"As am I. I've never been this happy before... I keep wondering if you're a dream. If I'm going to blink and you'll be gone, and when- if- that happens, how far away you'll be. If you'll still be my prince, or if I'll be back in Rosthena and you'll only be part of my imagination. Or if you're going to start laughing at me any minute- or call your guards and have me arrested. I can think of a thousand ways for you to be taken away from me, and I can't think of a single reason this should be real. But it is a lovely dream, your majesty." 

"Dirk, no. Don't say that, you'll break my heart. Of course I'm real, my feelings are real. And I'd never turn you in, I don't know what I'd do if you were taken away from me. We've had grand old times these last three years, without even having to talk. You know I trust you, Dirk, with my life. Can you trust me, too? When I say this is real?" Jake had laced his other hand with Dirk's at one point, and they now sat facing each other on the bed. 

Dirk focused on small things, the way he always did when he got nervous or sad or scared and felt himself floating away from reality. He focused on the warmth of Jake's hands, how solid they were, how they clutched at him like Jake could tell how lost he felt. He focused on Jake's eyes- they were reminiscent of his grandmother's, but not quite the same. The Queen's were a luminous green, like sunshine shining through leaves. Jake's were the leaves hidden underneath those, the emerald green left over when the leaves underneath are sheltered from the light. Jake's eyes were the green of a lush, distant shore, calling to Dirk as he floated on the endless tides, without a home to look for. Jake's eyes reeled him back, and Dirk felt connected with reality once more. 

"There you are. You worried me, Dirk, sometimes you get this far-off look in your eyes, and I'm not sure you're with me any more. Sometimes it doesn't leave for hours, and I... well. What do you say, old bean? Can you trust me?" 

Dirk paused, still getting a feel for himself. Things felt clearer than they had earlier- the shaking was gone, he didn't feel like he was an untethered chain any more. Retreating from his safe haven of disconnection with the world was a feat in itself, and now Jake was asking for more. If Jake had asked for anything else- Dirk's undying love, his servitude, his body, his life, Dirk would have handed it over without blinking. But trust? He could love, live for, die for. But he had every expectation of getting hurt, of being betrayed. 

"I've never trusted someone before. Not in my memory, at least." He admitted in defeat. He didn't trust Jake- not because he had any qualms about his character, but because he knew what to expect from life. And a poor orphan didn't get a prince. 

"I see." Jake bit his lip, thinking. Dirk braced for his pulling away, for rejection thanks to his lack of humanity. But Jake surprised him once more. 

"Tell me this, then. Have you ever loved somebody before?" 

"Well...no, not romantically. I'm not... good at relationships." 

"That's alright, Dirk. Hey, look at me. Right here." Dirk forced himself to stop avoiding and look him in the eyes. "Have you ever kissed someone before?" 

"...no." Dirk admitted, feeling his heartbeat pick up again.

"Then I suppose you could say your lips are as sacred as your trust, since both are things you've shared with no one. I have another question. Would you object to somebody kissing you?" Jake was smiling coyly, and Dirk felt like his brain was exploding in anticipation. 

"Not if they were the right person." 

Jake smiled wider, and then he was leaning in. Dirk held his hands a little tighter, trying to fight his flash of terror. What if he didn't do it right, what if he tasted bad, what if peasants tasted horrible and couldn't kiss right and Jake was disappointed-

He didn't have time to worry, not when Jake was inches away. Dirk knew he worked best with a sword, when he trusted his adrenaline instead of overthinking everything. He used to same tactic now- drawing in a breath, letting his eyes slip shut and closing the distance between himself and his darling, beloved prince. He forced himself not to think about it, focus on his senses and let everything else handle itself. 

The kiss was shallow, their lips opening slightly as they refused to break contact. Tongues stayed in their respective mouths, though, and Dirk appreciated Jake not pushing him too fast. Jake tasted like honey, and the kiss was just as sweet. It was innocent and gentle, Jake's warm hands brushing through the hair at the nape of his neck. Everything was safe, and real. It wasn't perfect- they were clumsy and Dirk was shy, but they were getting better each second and it was good. Despite the mistakes, it was wonderful. 

Jake's lips were as smooth as Dirk had imagined- smoother even, they were like butter, or soft cheese, or something more romantic than that. Jake was still moving forward, releasing Dirk's hands so he could wrap his arms around his neck again. Dirk placed his hands on Jake's hips, marveling to himself how sturdy he was. Dirk was taller, but he was lean where Jake was broad and powerful. They fit together more easily than they should, lips clashing and moving like the tide- Dirk learning it was okay to lean into it, to tilt his head, to take control and do things how he wanted; Jake learning how to take cues, to adapt to Dirk instead of going solely on his own instincts. Jake smelled like fancy soap, like clean bed linens and summer air, everything about him was like kissing an angel or a god, and Dirk couldn't hold him close enough or gently enough. 

 

 

Jake finally pulled away, arms still around Dirk's neck and a smile on his face. Dirk just stared, eyes wide in wonder. He'd just kissed the man he loved, over and over, they'd been kissing. He loved Jake so much. He'd just kissed him. Holy fucking shit. 

"Well that was...lovely, Strider. We just shared a kiss. You just shared something intimate with me and it went extremely well, don't you think?" 

Dirk could only nod dumbly. His hands slipped from Jake's waist, not to pull away, but to take his hand again once more. Dirk felt drunk and dizzy from the kissing, but he still wanted more. He wanted more of Jake, wanted all of him, wanted to give himself completely up to Jake and love him enough that the feeling in his chest and belly might fade. He felt like someone had pumped him full of air, like frogs on warm summer nights. Dirk loved it and couldn't stand it at the same time. He held so much affection for Jake, he had to get it out, had to hold him and kiss him and make him happy. He planted gentle kisses along Jake's hand as he listened to him, tracing his palms, fingers, knuckles and wrist with his lips. 

"You managed that fine. You just trusted me with your first kiss, Dirk. You gave me your pledge, and now your lips. Please, give me your trust. I never want to hurt you, darling." 

Dirk had settled more, now holding Jake's hand cupped against his cheek. He couldn't help it, he adored Jake so much and as long as he didn't pull away, he wanted to shower him in the affection he deserved. It also helped to have something of comfort as Jake spoke. As scary as it was, Jake was right. If he really wanted this to be a relationship, to move past adoration and idealization, he had to trust Jake. 

He turned his head, pressing one last kiss into Jake's palm. "I trust you." He whispered. The quaver in his voice didn't go unnoticed, just unmentioned. 

Jake grinned like the sun, and then he was back in Dirk's arms. Dirk instinctually wrapped him up tight in a hug as Jake pressed himself as close as he'd go. This time Dirk was the one to initiate the kiss. They fit together more fluidly this time, less testing the waters and shyness. No words were exchanged, but they both communicated clearly; this was about being hurt, about being sad and alone until today, and finding each other and letting the other person know that they never planned on leaving, on hurting them, on letting go.Dirk felt an ache stirring in his chest, a feeling he had no name for. But the experience was cathartic, in a way. He held tightly to Jake as the remembered pain and loneliness from the past years crashed through him, and then the tidal wave was over and peace settled inside him. Their lips broke apart once more, but neither seemed to want to separate their bodies. Jake shifted a little closer, until Dirk pulled him directly into his lap. Jake cuddled up to him like a child, and the two sat in silence. After nineteen years of distance, they both needed to hold someone close. Something new had passed between them; maybe the kiss, maybe Dirk's agreement to trust someone else for the first time, maybe Jake's experience at being able to care for someone else for the first time. Nothing needed to be said, but both boys knew that whatever had passed between them today was permanent. It was small and sweet and innocent, but there was a new bond between them that held no chance of being broken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so I know this is what you guys have been waiting for so if it's not up to scratch pls tell me so I can rewrite, I had a hard time with this. 
> 
> Also this AU is nowhere close to finished, it's just getting started so expect a lot more this definitely isn't the grand finale


	10. Chapter 10

Dirk could have stayed on the bed with Jake for much longer than was reasonable, but soon enough the prince was shifting away. Dirk knew better than to protest, but his silence didn't change the disappointment he felt at the loss of his new lover.

"As lovely as this is, darling, there's a meeting today I must get to." Jake had a bit of a pout on his face, which made Dirk's heart swell enough to soothe the loss of the arms around him. The prince rubbed Dirk's arm sweetly, regretfully, for a moment, before leaving the bed and heading to his wardrobe. 

"Help me dress, won't you?" He called back, casual as anything. Dirk swallowed- Jake very rarely asked him to help, he found it ridiculous for grown men to be unable to dress themselves. He normally only asked with garments so superfluous they truly did require a second pair of hands- or when he wanted to flirt. Dirk guessed that today would be the latter, as Jake had no reason to dress especially nice just for a routine meeting. By the time he'd collected himself enough to shove off the bed and join Jake, the white night shirt had been discarded, leaving Jake shirtless for Dirk to admire. Of course, he'd seen Jake in various states of nudity before, but he could rarely help but to gawk a little bit. Especially now, when he could trust Jake wouldn't send him straight to the gallows for staring. Now he could look all he wanted. He could look, he could admire, he could gawk, he could touch. 

Dirk felt his heart pick up speed once more- he wasn't sure if he should act on his impulses or not. Jake seemed pretty open about touch, but Dirk never knew what action would be crossing the line. Still, now seemed a good time to test his boundaries. Despite his awkwardness and lack of personal relationships, Dirk was actually quite a clingy person. Luckily Jake didn't seem opposed in the slightest to Dirk wrapping his arms around his bare torso from behind, and Dirk was relieved to see him smile when he gently pressed his lips to Jake's tanned neck. Jake leaned back into the embrace, his hand reaching back to cup Dirk's cheek. He was so fucking warm, which made Dirk especially regretful to lose his company. 

"You really are damned sweet, aren't you Strider?" Jake hummed the words, leaning back into Dirk's hold. "I never would have imagined it from a guard. The training is quite intensive, from what I know, and the ones that have any depth outside of where their purses are concerned seem to be quite cruel. How've you managed to stay so sweet?" 

Dirk had to swallow-it still felt so odd to speak, but he was slowly getting better at it. "Many come from wealth far greater than my own village's, my lord. Perhaps because I've known the sorrow of loss. Or how appreciated kindness is when your world is dark. Perhaps because I've been taught to never take things for granted- if there were ever a time in which you were no longer mine, I shouldn't want to wonder if there was ever a second in which I hadn't treated you as you deserve, or if you had ever had cause to doubt my affections."

Jake turned to face him now, his expression concerned yet again. The thumb of Jake's hand began ghosting over Dirk's cheek, as Jake sought to comfort a wound he knew very little about. 

"Loss. You've lived a hard life, Dirk, you've known a lot of sorrow. How did you lose your family?" Jake pulled on a shirt as he spoke- as much as he wanted to know everything about Dirk, he really did have to get ready. 

Dirk began fastening his buttons for him, a welcome distraction from having to look Jake in the face as they breached this vulnerable subject. "My father was a soldier. As I told you, he died before I was born. Had a small run in with a cannonball." It was awkward, telling Jake about his family. If the army hadn't needed him, if there hadn't been a fight for more land, Dirk may still have a family. That wasn't Jake's design, but his beloved prince was still very close to the roots of Dirk's suffering. 

"I never learned much about him. I don't think there was much to tell. I don't have anything of his, my family came here with very little property and even less sentiment. I'm not even sure he knew of my existence. My mother may not have even known at the time. My brother told me she died of grief for him, as soon as her newborn son could conceivably survive without her. But from what I've learned of them, there wasn't much love between them. An arranged marriage between two very quiet, private people. It is my personal belief that it wasn't grief that took her, but I have no other explanation for her loss." Dirk fastened the top, final button, and pressed a kiss to the patch of throat showing just above the fabric. Jake gave a breathy laugh, breaking the somber attitude for a brief moment. 

"And your brother? The only family you knew." 

"David. He was... murdered, is the only word I know for it. I don't know why." Dirk clenched his hands into fists for a moment, then relaxed them again. He didn't want to get worked up in front of Jake. 

"He was quite private about his wage earnings. We had only enough land for a small garden, no livestock. He was only ever home in the late evenings, and would be gone again before the dawn. Never told me where. I was only small when he died. I came in very late, after traveling with another family to a large traveling market several towns over. He was...lying dead on the floor, a sword through his chest. There'd been a fight, I could tell from the state of our home, but no other clues than that. Nothing on the sword to indicate his killer, no reason I knew of for him to have so bitter an enemy..." Dirk was fairly certain the shirt he'd just buttoned over Jake's chest had been light blue, but red was swimming before his eyes. Over Jake's chest, down his stomach and arms, the color growing more brown the further away it was from his heart. Where the blood wasn't as thick, where it had managed to dry in the hours the corpse of his brother had been abandoned before Dirk had come home. Dirk recalled how his brother had lain, so quiet and still. So pale, so cold. Not what a young boy should ever have to see. Not what a young man should still dream about, still have forced to the forefront of his mind and superimposed over the man he loved most, who's survival depended on Dirk's skill. 

"Dirk?" Jake's voice sounded far away, but at least the image of blood on his shirt faded away. Dirk blinked, looking back up to meet Jake's eyes. The prince looked worried; Dirk must have zoned out for longer than usual. That almost never happened when he was working, he normally kept himself hyper vigilant. But when conversation was there to distract him and stir up painful topics, Dirk supposed it was only natural for his phantom visions to come back. Especially when the subtle peril Jake constantly existed in served as a grim reminder of the danger Dave had obviously experienced, and succumbed to. 

"Dirk, are you with me?" Jake's hands were now on Dirk's shoulders, and Dirk wasn't sure when they'd gotten there. But the heat contrasted strongly enough with his phantoms to bring some inkling of reality back to him, allow him to focus on Jake's warmth, his life, and banish the memories still clinging to his mind. He blinked, nodding stiffly before he felt full reality return to him with a snap, and words were available to him once more. 

"My apologies, your highness. Sometimes things...come back, when the memory of the event is called to the front of my mind. I'm sorry, I can assure you I won't let it interfere with my work, you'll be protected. I won't let that happen to you." 

"Dirk. I trust you, there's no one in the world I'd rather entrust my life to. Are you sure you're alright? You really can go home if you like, I don't want you straining yourself if you're not well." 

"I'm fine. I'd rather be in your company, if that's not too much to ask. It does me well to see that you're safe. Don't- don't send me away. Please." Dirk heard his voice soften, almost a whisper on the last word. Sometimes he still felt a little distant after his reveries, but he knew he could still defend Jake. And he didn't want to leave his company, not now that they were finally able to speak and to touch. 

"Alright, you stubborn old goat. It's alright, I'm fine. Just relax, Dirk, we'll go to this dreadful meeting and then spend the rest of the day however we wish. I still have so many questions for you, and I'm not anxious to lose your company, either." Jake pushed up on his toes to kiss Dirk's chin, currently stubbled after his neglect of a razor due to his late night. Then they had to rush, or Jake really would be late to his meeting. They desperately didn't need more suspicion. 

 

The two boys made it to the meeting just in time, slipping into one of the large gathering halls unnoticed with the rest of the drunken stragglers. Dirk would have picked a library to hold meetings, but he supposed the banquet hall worked just as well. There were no windows in this room, but a plethora of candles from the great chandelier and more candelabras than Dirk cared to count supplied more than enough light. Dirk supposed the presence of an enormous oak table, laden with decadent foods of all sorts, was what caused this room to trump the library as a meeting place. Already, most nobles were stuffing their faces with treats. 

Jake took his place just to the right of the queen at the head of the table, and Dirk stood behind them both at the eastern wall, in between the Queen's guard and the one belonging to the grand duke. Dirk was only fairly sure of their names- the queen's guard to his left he believed to be named Tybalt, and the duke's guard to his right was almost certainly named Ochieng. Tybalt was one of the most intimidating guards Dirk had ever seen. Well over six feet and twice as broad as Dirk, he had the strong features, shiny hair and physique known to generally belong to nations further from Prospit than Dirk had ever traveled. Tybalt kept a consistently stern expression, and seemed even less open to conversation than Dirk was. They'd never spoken outside of work, as the queen's guard was the most private of all of them. Truth be told, the queen should have a whole system of guards, but she relied solely on Tybalt and the massive white hound that followed her more diligently than her shadow, and nobody knew anything about besides it looked too scary to cross, never mind ask questions about. 

That left Ochieng, to his right. He had very dark skin, darker than common to the kingdom, and his head was shaved nearly all the way down. Dirk had to admit, he was striking; stark white teeth, a large, flat nose, burly but lithe and a boyish swagger that seemed out of place for a guard. He had mirthful eyes, and Dirk had often seen him laughing and joking among friends in the market or at the training ground. Before Jake had captured his heart, he had let slip a glance or two to Ochieng during his training. 

The Grand Duke Leofric of Bwen, who was Ochieng's ward, was the exact opposite. Dirk supposed he would have similar pigment to him, if the Duke wasn't constantly ruddy-faced from drink. He had receding red hair, teeth rotting from sweets, and a belly only kept from straining at the belt by a paycheck large enough to frequently buy a new belt. Such descriptions could be applied to most at the table; the Duke was among the palest and the most obviously drunk, but it was common of royalty to appear better suited to inhabit a tavern and a night inn than a royal banquet hall. There were exceptions; the guards, for the most part, seemed professional enough, and a smattering of nobility around the table still held a good deal of dignity. Dirk wondered if he truly was right about them- that there wasn't more than met the eye, that they were just some selfish, slobbering drunks too focused on gold to give a shit about the villages. He'd be slain on the spot if anyone here knew he even thought such things to himself, but... Jake had opened a whole new horizon to him. A world where nobility could be flawed, could be human, where he, Dirk, an orphan who should've been cannon fodder could be on the same plane and even pass judgement on the people who sat at enormous tables every day and decided his fate. 

This train of thought was making his head spin. Dirk abandoned his analysis of the people surrounding him, honing in on the conversation to try and distract himself. They were normally incredibly dull, but today he could use a break from calamity. 

"Nineteen, sire, and not even an engagement! You've had no shortage of offers, but with every passing year- nay, every passing week, an eligible match marries off! My wife was years younger than you when she married me, my lord, it's high time you got to it. A man may be able to wait longer to marry, but with foreign affairs being the way they are, a marriage would be in your best interest. A wedding would provide an excuse to bring everyone together for the ceremony, and forge a peace treaty while we're at it . I propose you pick a spouse by the end of the month- that's plenty of time to weigh your options, and could even slash our need for new soliders, if a peace treaty can be made of it. We've had to go out to even our farthest villages, and draft at the bottom margin of our recruiting age. Many men could be spared, your highness." 

Dirk felt his blood chill as a slimy note crept into the Grand Duke's voice at the end of his sentence. He'd expected that the prince would have to marry, that he couldn't really court him, but...he didn't think he'd get this far. And now that he had, he thought he'd get a bit longer than a month to enjoy it. But... If Jake's marriage could spare Nick, could spare hundreds or thousands of boys, spare wives from becoming widows and children from becoming fatherless, spare villages from losing breadwinners, then it had to be the right choice. It had to be. 

He dropped his eyes a fraction, the only thing he could do to grant himself at least some small form of a defensive gesture without being detected. Jake's voice floated through the ache that was already setting in, a firmness to it that Dirk rarely heard in the prince's generally light voice. 

"Your wife, may she rest in peace, was scarcely more than a child when she married you and had no business to be doing so. My grandmother has ruled this kingdom excellently with no one at her side, and if I have to rely on a lifetime bond just to keep my kingdom out of battle- well then I'm not a worthy ruler at all. I will marry whom I choose, when I choose, and nothing less. Besides, I can't marry someone for a peace treaty every time there's unrest between kingdoms. Why don't we focus on resolving the source of all this violence, instead of trying to pawn me off like a mare?" 

The Duke slowly shifted through expressions from shocked and outraged- he finally settled on miffed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. "You must at least consider your options," he quipped in as superior a tone he could manage after Jake's snub. "Others grow...uneasy...at your lack of a marriage, or a child. You need to think about the future of your kingdom, your majesty. Will you at least consider some of your offers?" 

Dirk shifted his eyes back to Jake, who leaned back coolly in his chair. The Queen's eyes were like fire, but she said nothing. What was she thinking? No one knew her marital status, or even where Jake had come from. They both insisted he was her grandson, and from what Dirk could gather, there had been a period of a few years before Jake's existence in which the Queen had been very scarce and mysterious- more than enough time for a courtship to form, and for a baby. Surely the Duke's shaming of the lack of a marriage had some sort of effect on her. 

"I'll tell you what," Jake was fighting to keep the level, simpering tone all the royals used to speak to each other. "To match your sickeningly old fashioned views of ruling without a marriage, I'll match you in prehistoric traditions. I'll hold a ball, at the end of the month, and get to know some of these 'options' in person. I won't marry someone I have no connection with. It would do us all well to reconnect with our neighboring kingdoms. Perhaps some friendships can be formed between foreign officials at the ball. Meanwhile, I will leave myself open to forming a connection. If I find someone that I deem suitable, perhaps I shall continue a correspondence with them until I myself feel ready to marry. But it will be whomever I wish to marry, nobody else. Whether my heart chooses the friendliest princess, the ruler of an enemy country, an emperor no one has ever heard of, or the damned serving girl, I won't hear a word against it. Not for status, gender, beauty, or wealth. Do I make myself clear?"

Meek affirmations could be heard around the room, as Dirk finally lifted his eyes again. He'd been wallowing pretty deep in self pity there for a while- Jake was already moving on, planning on finding an appropriate spouse, after all. But the last sentence gave him hope. Perhaps his prince would choose him, after all. They could dance, Jake would announce their courtship. Perhaps he would be promoted, get a spot on the royal council. He could defend the villages, team up with Jake to try and solve whatever they were at war about now, help lower taxes so villagers wouldn't starve to death. Lofty dreams, but if Jake loved him then what could be impossible? 

 

The meeting didn't continue for long after that. Attempts were made to discuss ways to resolve the land skirmishes, lower the draft age, increase taxes, and the same squabbles that always divided the council. After Jake's first display of irritation and outright disobedience in months, however, most were too unsettled to really bother trying to argue. Within the hour, the meeting had been adjourned with no progress whatsoever made on the war, the taxes, or the draft. 

Most everyone cleared quickly, anxious to get back to their drink, sport, or whatever else occupied their day. Jake lingered, bowing his head to speak quietly with his grandmother. Dirk couldn't hear from his spot, and was fairly certain he wasn't meant to. The two spoke quietly, with little expression to help Dirk decode their conversation. After a moment, they broke apart and Jake returned to Dirk. The Queen waved her guard to follow herself and the massive white hound leading the way out of the hall. 

The prince and his guard were the only two left in the room. Jake glanced to make sure no one had returned, then joined Dirk at the wall and took his hand. 

"Did you hear? In a month, we have our chance. It'll be tricky, but I know we can manage it. Gran will be the easiest to convince, and as long as we ease them into it- it'll take time, of course, but I think it's going to work." Jake was grinning from ear to ear, positively bursting with excitement. He bounced up on his toes like a child, the same sweet and eager energy infecting the kiss he pulled Dirk into. 

A month. Jake really wasn't going to abandon him, in a month they would have an open courtship, his life wouldn't be in danger. His hand tightened its grip on Jake's, the only answer he could give in such a public place. Even without any people in the room, and little chance of someone catching them, Dirk felt very wary of the castle walls. But in a month, he could walk about them as freely as the Grand Duke Leofric. He would no longer have to fight the panic, the feeling that his rope to shore had been severed, the drifting feeling to escape a reality that didn't favor him. This prison would become his haven, Jake no longer the fruit of Tantalus but a lover, to have and to hold and everything in between. 

"I love you," Jake spoke again. "Come on, love, let's get out of this stuffy castle. I want to be alone with you, for as long as possible. Until we don't have to hide any more."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *unfinished AP study booklet judging from backpack* 
> 
> Updates probably will be taking around a month now bc I'm a busy and accomplished person. Also, as you can probably guess, Prospit is meant to be a sort of melting pot of cultures and races. This world is not meant to be geographically similar to earth. Races are based on earth races; Jake is Hawaiian, Dirk is German, Tybalt is Native American and Ochieng Nigerian. Obv not from those places actually, but that's what I'm basing their nationalities on while I write this. Religion is very ehhhh in this, I didn't really realize what I was getting myself into. It's loosely Christianity based I guess, bc that's the religion I have the most exposure to. Dirk isn't religious, he grew up in a huge melting pot of religions. So yeah, don't be all butthurt about the culture mix. Darker skin is most common for the area btw, but it's also conveniently located close to trade routes and harbors so several white people like Dirk and Leofric and Nick's family also love there now. Deal with my shitty world development and enjoy it.


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically date night. Where's the plot development. Probably with my heterosexuality and 4.0 GPA.

Dirk lay still, hoping that if he feigned rest for long enough his eyes would abandon their vigil on his ceiling and embrace the blackness of his eyelids, the way they were supposed to. 

He often had difficulty falling asleep-despite years of daily toil, the need for a sharp mind, and early mornings, Dirk often lay awake at night to let his thoughts roam free. Three years of constant vigilance made it hard to relax at night. And after his day with Jake, he couldn't help but feel restless. He couldn't wait to wake up again, to be reunited with Jake at the castle and start another day of learning about him, of sharing his mind, of soft touches and softer looks and kisses that were softer still. 

He turned to stare instead at the western wall, eyes resting in the small grooves of the wood. Memories of the day played back in his mind, like the phantom visions that haunted him during the day. But if his past memories were demons, then today was an archangel, so pure and full of light and delivering Dirk from any sorrow he could even think of to trouble him. 

After the meeting, Jake had dragged him into gallivanting around the castle's multitude of courtyards. They avoided the one used for soldier's training, and the more popular ones where they were sure to run into more nobles and have their privacy interrupted. The yard they'd chosen hadn't been one of the most attractive ones, but they found their own beauty in it. While the innermost courtyards flourished with wisteria and honeysuckle, and had ornamental furnishings all around, theirs was much simpler, at least by palace standards. Grass grew fairly thick all across, with only large stepping stones for a path in lieu of the large, dominating marble tiles characteristic of the finest courtyards. The flowers that grew were more of the wild variety- daisies, poppies, and a few daffodils under the main attractions of the yard- the abundance of fruit-bearing trees and shrubs. Fruity scents replaced the floral ones, and the buzz of bees was just as prominent as in the flowered courtyards. A large fountain resided in the middle of the courtyard, the gurgling water loud enough to shield their whispered words from unwelcome ears. 

The prince and his guard had picked an apple tree, with surrounding strawberry bushes shielding them from passing court members. They'd spend the morning in hushed conversation- Jake had wanted to know all about his village, his hobbies, his opinions and likes and dislikes. Dirk had told him everything he asked, like a young maid untrained in the art of acting coy to attract a man. No, he gave Jake anything and everything he asked for, more an infatuated mutt than a man. But Jake seemed to love it- he'd asked question after question after question, and met all of Dirk's hesitations with encouragements and gentle touches. 

As the morning wore on, the fruit around them proved too tempting not to sample. They'd spent the next half hour or so feeding each other strawberries from the bushes - Dirk was unfamiliar with the show of affection, and was stiff at first. Jake had to ease him into it- Dirk quickly realized it wasn't much different from feeding a horse or donkey from the palm of your hand, except that now he felt the inclination to kiss his subject gently after each bite that was fed. Jake taught him that- a sweet bite of fruit, and then a sweeter press of lips to follow. Dirk had been surprised the first time, but caught on quickly and was soon initiating his own kisses after feeding Jake bites of the strawberries. When they'd both filled their bellies, Dirk had entertained himself by rolling an apple across his shoulders, popping it off his elbows at times. Jake had been fascinated with this, and Dirk had spent the remainder of the morning teaching him how to roll the apple across his arms.

 

Dirk rolled over once more, now facing the eastern wall. He couldn't keep the stupid, girlish smile from fighting its way back into his face. He couldn't forget how happy Jake had looked, because they were spending time together. Despite still being able to feel phantom lips on his own, he couldn't wait to get back to Jake in the morning and feel the real thing again. The goddamn prince of Prospit kissed him. All day, they'd kissed and talked and smiled, and it was even better than Dirk had imagined. 

His eyes scanned the furniture in his small, one room living quarters. Jake had sat in that chair by the fireplace- he only had the one chair, and the though Jake had offered, the thought of seating the prince on a floor cushion had mortified Dirk enough that Jake had let the subject drop. He'd been incredibly nervous when Jake had asked to see his quarters, but the prince couldn't have been more gracious about it. The place was little different than an average peasant's house- Dirk had built it himself, in his few free hours in the evenings and on Sundays. It wasn't much, just a square wooden box. But a closer look showed excellent craftsmanship- not a breath of wind invaded through the wood panels, but large windows lay on each of the four walls to allow light and a nice breeze when Dirk fancied it. Outside he had a few stones outside the door as a walkway, but every spare inch of his land now served as a vegetable garden. A fence kept larger animals out as well as marked the small perimeter of the property, but Dirk had also placed a finely woven rope mesh over the plants to keep out the smaller invaders. Carrots, turnips, potatoes, tomatoes, and others all grew across the garden. Inside was an odd mix of thrift and innovation- Dirk didn't bother with a bed frame, or what Jake would have thought a proper bed. Instead he used old flour and barley sacks, stuffed with feathers from game. Oats would have been preferable, as feathers could be sold at market, but mice weren't welcome. A large swatch of cotton lay over the sacks to protect from the rough burlap, and a simple pillow and patchwork blanket lay over those. A trunk lay nearby, which held clothes, needles and thread, and other odds and ends needed to survive. 

A simple fireplace stood on the far wall, with a wooden chair in front and a few extra floor cushions stacked beside the fireplace, for the few instances when Dirk did have company. Nothing fancy, just more burlap sacks stuffed with feathers. A few cupboards lined the southern wall, holding dishes, food and cookware. An iron stove also stood on the same wall. All these furnishings were what one would expect, a humble peasant's home with enough to easily survive. 

The first thing that stood out was the enormous barrel that stood beside the kitchen- it was large enough for a man to fit into, and Jake had been shocked to find out that that was its very purpose. Dirk bathed daily, unable to bear dirt or old sweat on his body. Many in his village did the same, but several royals did not bathe more than once a month, and many peasant communities bathed less often than that. Jake, however, also bathed daily, a habit passed from his grandmother. It was a habit most attributed to non native Prospitans and their descendants. Jake was surprised to see a barrel instead of a tub, but it served its purpose. Bars of soap in a small basket were Dirk's only means of cleansing both himself and his clothes, sharply contrasting with the array of oils, salts and other things that Jake was accustomed to. 

While this was eccentric, it was what lay behind the tub that really fascinated Jake. Dirk had split large bamboo reeds in half, and these led up to the roof. They funneled rain water directly into the tub, so the barrel filled directly every time it rained. Dirk had more barrels behind the house, so he would have water when it hasn't rained for a while. He'd never forget the look on Jake's face, how proud he'd looked at Dirk's simple little contraption. 

This of course had lead him to show Jake all of his alterations to the place- the rig he'd placed on the walls for when his arms were aching too much to light candles all across the room- more bamboo stalks, this time filled with oil. Coming in, all Dirk had to do was strike a match and light the stalk that ended by the door- the flame would travel down the oil, and light lamps across the room for a fully illuminated house without the pain of lighting several lamps. Dirk had doubted the practicality of it at first, but other alternatives to kerosene or wood- animal fat, vegetable oil, had kept the contraption inexpensive enough for use. 

Other odds and ends throughout the small cabin, and then it was time to show off his grandest scheme. A small latch could be seen in the center of the ceiling, inconspicuous enough to go unnoticed until Dirk pointed it out. A small stepstool boosted Dirk enough for him to tug on the latch, revealing two panel doors that swung down and a rope ladder that lead up to a skylight. 

It was one of the most frivolous things Dirk had ever done in his life, but the look on   
Jake's face immediately made it all worth it. They'd of course headed up and sat on the roof, watching the world and conversing quietly. Dirk wished he could take Jake up here at night, or that it were at least later in the season so they would have time to watch the sunset. But for today they had to content themselves with Jake laying his head in Dirk's lap, and Dirk stroking his dark hair until they had to return to the castle before someone came looking for them. 

Dirk turned over once again, now facing upwards. The roof was still open, casting moonlight into the room and giving Dirk a good view of the stars. One day he'd show Jake that. 

Parting had been terrible. Jake had looked to be getting actually upset- he said nothing on it, but the look on his face and the strain to his voice were enough to make Dirk worry. He'd been extremely tender with him, to try and comfort whatever was hurting him. He'd helped Jake dress for bed, kissing his bare shoulders and his neck, he'd kissed his forehead once he lay down like he was a small child. At Jake's insistence, he'd even lain down with him- on top of the blankets, keeping a decent barrier between them. But it had been a heart achingly sweet experience, curling his arms around the prince and listening to his breathing slow. The night guard did seemed surprised that Jake had retired so early, but shrugged it off, likely assuming he'd just had a long day riding. 

With a deep sigh, Dirk rolled out of bed and headed towards the ladder in the middle of the room. Since he wasn't going to be sleeping, he could at least get some work done. 

The roof didn't need any repairs currently, but Dirk was considering more alterations. He could move a barrel up here and simulate rainfall into his bathing barrel whenever he pleased, and was also considering growing plants on the roof. He didn't have any extra garden space, but even these few square feet could produce some extra meals. He'd have to put up walls to hold dirt, and design some water irrigation system...

Dirk was washed, dressed, fed, and on his way to the castle before daybreak. With rest beyond him, the least he could do was give Jake a nice surprise. If word spread, he could blame his wounds for keeping him awake, and say he was saving up and could do with being paid for part of the night shift. That part wasn't a lie. He needed new clothing for the ball. He'd been to balls before, but what he hoped had been his last growth had rendered him too large to fit into his last set of formal dress. He'd had to place the order already to a tailor, and now needed to save the extra money so his village wouldn't feel the effects of the sizable dent in his pay. 

Jake was still asleep when Dirk arrived. He generally was, and Dirk often wondered how he slept so much. Then again, he never slept enough himself. He knew Jake wouldn't be happy when he saw the state his guard was in- pale, a little weak, with deepening bags under his eyes. He needed to rest, especially as he was still healing. Tonight, he'd sleep properly. His village would suffer if he got ill and had to take off work. 

Jake stirred, the moonlight in his hair bringing memories of the clearing back to Dirk. He'd never been in the castle so early. Or so late, depending on perspective. Jake looked like an angel. Golden threaded quilt over his body, silver light on his face and a slight crease to his eyebrows...

Dirk watched his expression curiously. He didn't often watch people sleeping, but they generally looked quite peaceful. Even the hardest, most burdened workers back in his village had worn a soft expression when they'd fallen asleep over lunch hour. What dark thoughts were strong enough to bring a frown to his beloved's noble face? 

Jake looked more troubled as the minutes ticked by. The holy-looking silver moonlight was slowly fading to a misty gray as morning approached, and Jake's face continued to cloud over at the same rate. He now looked quite miserable-tormented, was the word that crossed Dirk's mind. Should he wake him? It looked like the prince's lips were trembling- no words nor sounds were discernible, but something clearly troubled his mind. Dirk couldn't bear the look on his face anymore, crossing the room to jostle Jake in an attempt to wake him. 

Jake didn't respond well to the touch. He jerked, with something like a strangled groan coming from his mouth. Dirk stepped back immediately, but Jake still struggled against an unseen foe. Dirk felt panic rise in his throat- it was getting worse, and he didn't know how to help. Think, Strider, think! He tried to recall how they handled the fever dreams in his village when they got this bad. Smelling salts, but he didn't want to leave Jake alone while he fetched them. He could ring the bell for a servant, but that would still take too long. Jostling didn't help, he couldn't shout without being punished severely for speaking by any nobility that overheard...did he have any water? 

Dirk dashed into the attached washroom, gaze immediately landing on the wash pitcher. It was gloriously heavy, meaning a large amount of water splashed out- all over Jake, all over the lavish bedclothes and even onto the floor. 

Jake sat up immediately, a shout ripped from his lungs as sleep abandoned him. Dirk immediately regretted his decision- water was everywhere, just to avoid a nightmare. Dirk could feel his breathing, almost as ragged as Jake's. He couldn't help it, he'd just panicked. He'd never seen Jake so distressed, save for the clearing. 

"What the hell are you doing?!" The angry shout came as soon as Jake was conscious, and Dirk felt himself flinch. He was used to sharp words, even physical rebuke, but not from Jake. Never once from Jake. He couldn't keep the hurt expression from his face- he wiped it off in a second, but he knew Jake had seen. He couldn't blame him for being angry, he would be too if someone else had behaved so foolishly. 

"Oh...Dirk. It's you." Jake pushed his wet hair back, the angry expression melting off his face as he removed himself from the bed. "Dirk, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you. Please don't look at me like that, darling, I'm not angry with you." Jake reached out, but Dirk flinched the moment he was touched again. Jake had been remarkably calm since he'd recognized Dirk, but now his face crumpled again; he looked ready to cry. 

"Dirk, I'm sorry. I thought it was the night guard, I didn't realize it was you, love. Please, Dirk." He sniffed, lip wobbling and tears trembling at the corners of his eyes. "Please hold me. I, I dreamt-" 

Whatever he'd dreamt was too blubbery for Dirk to understand. Seeing Jake cry was enough to break Dirk from his frozen state, immediately seizing his prince and pulling him into a tight embrace. Jake bowed his head, burrowing into Dirk's shoulder as he fought to calm down. He wasn't sobbing, just quick, shaky breaths and blubbery tears. The kind that don't mean much, but won't stop pouring anyway. Dirk held him tightly, the knowledge that he was the once Jake sought comfort from bringing him comfort from the harsh words of earlier. He stroked Jake's hair, placing a few soft kisses to his head when he deemed appropriate. Jake didn't take long to calm down, sniffling as he pulled away to look at Dirk. 

"I'm sorry." He whispered before leaning up to kiss him. Dirk could taste salt in his mouth, and gave Jake a questioning look. Words were always hard, he had to re learn how to speak every morning. But he needed to know what was wrong with his love. 

"I know. Don't worry about it, love, I've had night terrors since I was a boy. Since my parents passed on... I used to just dream about them, but tonight it was you. About the clearing, when I thought you weren't going to make it home to me. I'd grown more accustomed to the nightmares about my parents, but even in my dreams you take me by surprise, darling. I'm alright, now, you're here." He sniffed again, taking a steadying breath and settling himself back on Dirk's shoulder. "What on earth possessed you to drench me?" 

"I panicked," Dirk admitted softly. "I couldn't sleep, so I came here to you. You looked so frightened, and when I shook you you only became worse. You looked so afraid, I couldn't think clearly. I apologize for the water." 

Jake managed half a smile, which at least soothed the sympathetic ache Dirk had been carrying for him. "It's alright. I'd rather it not have gone on, and I'm glad to have you here after a nightmare. The night guard is no comfort, when it's dark and you're far away and I've woken from God knows what beastly horror. It's nice to have some comfort." He buried his face in Dirk again, seeming to just breathe him in and be comforted by his presence. 

"You said you didn't sleep?" He questioned after a few moments, lifting his head just enough to look at him. "Why not? You're looking sickly. You need rest, Dirk." 

"I know, your majesty. I just...think a lot, sometimes. I'll rest tonight, I swear it." 

"No, I'll do you one better. Rest with me, we're both in want of it. It doesn't hurt as much with the other there." Jake kissed his chin. "Cmon. I'll get you relaxed." 

Dirk followed on wooden limbs to the washroom. Jake sat on the edge of the porcelain clawfoot tub, then turned the facet for water to begin pouring out. Running water was a standard for palaces and estates, it was a rarity only for peasants. Dirk's bamboo contraptions were only astonishing due to ingenuity and resourcefulness, not for design or originality. 

"I'm going to heat some coals and call for fresh bedclothes. You put some oils and salts in, pick whichever you like. You're going to relax, confound it, and take care of yourself. That's how you can make me feel better." Jake kissed him again before slipping back to his room. 

Dirk stood still, a bit dazed. He was going to bathe, here? The place was fit for an emperor, not the prince's guard. The tub was filling, and Dirk had to put in some fancy salts and oils he knew nothing about. What scents were preferable, how much was he supposed to use of each? He'd ask Jake for his help, but didn't want to seem childish. Besides, Jake was getting a fire going (on a hot summer day?) and calling someone to clean up the mess Dirk had made in waking him up. The shame burned in him for that, but he'd apologize to Jake again later. For now, he had a rapidly filling tub that he needed to put some fancy soaps into. 

Dirk couldn't read any of their labels, but he knew the markings on them would tell a literate person what each bottle held. Instead, he had to sniff each individual scent- he wished he could read, so that he could learn the names of the ones he didn't recognize. He did recognize a minty scent, and chose that scent to sprinkle in as bath salts, and some unscented oil. He wasn't sure at all what he was doing, it was the night guard's job to draw the bath. But he'd fake it so Jake wouldn't think him incompetent. 

Jake finally re-entered the room, carrying a large pan of burning coals. Dirk shied away- what the hell were those for? Some kind of punishment, Jake's delayed reaction to his rash actions from earlier? Dirk knew he'd take any punishment Jake saw fit, but holy shit he did not want those hot coals on his skin- 

Jake dumped the entire pan into the tub, hissing noises leaving the coals as they hit the cool water. Dirk stared at him, wondering what the hell he was doing. 

"We're one of the few kingdoms with pipes and plumbing. But we haven't managed to build the heaters yet, only Derse has managed that. So until that's done we're stuck using coals to heat water." 

He kissed Dirk on the chin, then immediately shed his wet sleep shirt, depositing it in a small basket. When he continued stripping, Dirk turned red and turned away. 

He'd seen Jake change before, and he'd helped him with some of the more intricate garments. It wasn't that nudity was forbidden, or even particularly frowned upon between nobility and their guards. It wasn't very frowned upon in Dirk's village either, but he couldn't help but feel nervous at the sheer...intimacy of it. Jake was nearly nude, only in his underclothes when he turned to see Dirk fully dressed. 

"I do mean for you to join me, love. Is...everything alright? If it makes you uncomfortable... Dirk, what's wrong?" 

"I just- I know there's nothing shameful about this, but- a peasant, my lord, sharing a bath with nobility, not to mention the goddamned fucking prince- but I want to be able to comfort you. And, I just, I-" 

Jake had taken his hands to silence him, but when that hadn't worked, he'd tried a kiss. It subdued Dirk even when he pulled away, put an end to his stuttering and left Jake with just a plaintive expression. 

"You think too much, Dirk. Look, we can both leave on our underclothes. It'll be like swimming. There's nothing wrong with swimming, and there's nothing wrong with you holding me or me kissing us. There's nothing wrong with us, and there's nothing wrong with you. Do you understand me?" 

Dirk nodded shakily, unused to the demanding note in Jake's voice. Then the prince's hands were on him, pushing off his loose shirt, sliding into his own hands when Dirk hissed at the pain to his wounds the movement caused. He undid his own trousers, blushing pretty hard despite still having his underclothes on. He had to remove his bandages as well, averting his eyes from what he knew was ugly pink healing underneath. He kicked off his shoes, and then Jake was pulling him bossily into the tub. The water was hot- Dirk jumped at first, expecting to be burned as if by a kettle. But the temperature was cool enough not to burn, just to relax. Dirk eased into silky water, and then Jake was in with him. The two of them just fit, and that in itself was a testament to the size of the palace tubs. Jake settled against him, head on his chest, and shut his eyes. Dirk held him and leaned back, careful to keep Jake's face out of the water.

"This is...new for me." He admitted to break the silence. "It's warm. I'm not used to anything besides soap." 

Jake smiled without opening his eyes. "I thought it might be. It's more relaxing this way." He shifted his head, and Dirk could feel the barest scratch of unshaven skin against his chest. Dirk had a feeling that bathing was a common method for him to try and forget the demons of the night. 

"...Will you tell me more about your dream?" He wanted to hear, so he could offer comfort. He almost regretted asking, after seeing the way Jake's expression clouded over, but remembering how much worse it had been when he'd been dreaming, when he'd been gasping for breath in his arms, made him change his mind. 

"I've had night terrors since my parents died." Jake admitted, still not opening his eyes. "Mostly about their deaths- both dead from fever one summer, within a quarter moon of each other. It wasn't a pretty death. I was seven. Old enough to remember everything." He sighed, almost shuddering against Dirk. Dirk tightened his arms around him, though he knew there was no conceivable method he could use to protect Jake from the past. 

"I can usually manage those dreams, as they're so familiar. But today I dreamt of- of you. God, Dirk, I don't think I've seen anything so red as the blood in that clearing. You, just, covered in it, and I returned this time, and your eyes- blank, like my father's, your face twisted in anguish like my mother's and I didn't know red could be so...bright..." 

"That's enough." Dirk interrupted him, mildly shocked at his gall. But Jake's voice was sounding so strained, he just couldn't bear it any more. "It's alright, it was just a dream. Will you look at me?" 

Jake raised his head, forcing his eyes open. He looked so pained, Dirk was convinced he was remembering the bright red of his dream. He leaned forward and kissed the prince's forehead. 

"I'm alive." Stating the obvious, but he didn't know how else to comfort Jake. If simple lies could scare him so much, than maybe simple truths would comfort him. 

"I lived. Just a few bumps is all. They'll heal, Jake. I'm nothing like the phantom in your dream. I'm alive, and the only expression I wear is adoration for you."

Jake smiled weakly at him, but sadness hadn't yet left his eyes. 

"Yes, you are alive. But you're hurt. You're weak, and you're too warm, and you're not resting. I know you're strong, darling, but I can't help but worry about you. You can't leave me, Dirk. It's an impossibly lonely life. Gran's getting on, and soon I'll be left the throne. I couldn't do it without you by my side." Jake's eyes traveled across his torso, scanning over his wounds. Dirk didn't move when Jake reached out brown fingers to trace along the length of one of the most healed scars- it was still an angry pink and tender, but Jake was gentle enough that it didn't hurt. 

Dirk slowly realized Jake's fixation on his health, even now that his wounds had begun healing wasn't just a mother hen personality- he'd experienced firsthand the effects of fever. If Dirk's wounds were infected, or if he got sick when already overexerted- fever didn't flirt, she nearly always took home her lovers. Dirk realized he'd been careless. He really was inviting sickness to his body, and Jake was being driven mad with worry. He felt a surge of protectiveness rush through him- he was Jake's protector, his guard. He wouldn't abandon Jake. He'd do anything for him, to keep him safe, to keep him from ever having cause to be afraid. 

"I'll rest," He promised. "I'd never desert you, my lord. It's my sworn duty to protect you, and I intend on doing so for the rest of your life." 

The way he kissed Jake was fierce, much different from the soft and reverent kisses they'd shared before. Dirk finally understood the pain his death would cause Jake, and he'd do anything to spare his prince from pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I keep ending these on really ominous notes when there's not even a huge plot twist for a few more scenes


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> is this plot continuation or Prospit runway

"Dirk Strider, if you wriggle one more time I'm going to stick you, and I won't even be very sorry about it." 

Dirk sighed through his nose but held himself still. He let his eyes drift to the mirror behind Jake's changing screen; he couldn't see past Jake's fluffed hair, but he could feel the prince's fingers fastening the last button at the very base of his Adam's apple. 

It'd been three years or so since he'd worn ball clothes, and he felt every bit as ridiculous as he had when he was sixteen. At least he was more built and less gangly now, and filled out the fine yellow garments considerably better. Not to mention the fact that Jake had picked the pattern for the tailor this time, instead of having Dirk wear the antiquated traditional formal guard's uniform. 

He looked attractive, or at least he hoped so. New black boots, not yet scuffed from training and riding, reached just under his knees. Dark gold pants lay under a chainmail vest, under a long sleeved white shirt with yellow pinstripes. He wasn't used to the snug sleeves that carried all the way down to cuff snugly at his wrists, or the little jeweled golden moons as cuff links. He wasn't used to the high lace collar of the shirt, or to the yellow tunic placed over it. He wasn't used to the collar, stiff and high and striped with complementary yellows, or to the stiff hold of his hair swept up and back in unnatural, intimidating spikes. He wasn't used to the striking figure in the mirror. 

He was used to his heart stopping when he looked at Jake, but he was having a particularly hard time keeping it beating tonight. The prince had on his crown, but his dark hair was so combed and fluffed (it looked like a cloud, like with a single puff of air Jake would float away) that the gold and jewels were half hidden. His throat was half covered by a fluffed satin cravat, the ivory fabric tucked into Jake's gleaming gold vest. Dirk hadn't been able to refrain from asking to touch Jake's ball clothes earlier today- the smooth silk and satin, the impossible thread count of the embroidery across the vest, the heavy gold buttons in the jacket, made from the same material as the vest. Jake had explained to him about silkworms and dye while Dirk admired, but Dirk was only half listening. The clothes felt like water under his palms, cool and smooth and oh so beyond anything Dirk should ever have touched in his life. 

Jake finished and pulled away, smiling softly. Wreathed in gold, eyes warmer than the last inch of a candle, Dirk couldn't help but compare him to an angel. Jake was certainly divine, lovelier than anything else on earth, pure, far too good for Dirk's stained soul. But Jake loved him, and Dirk loved him too. He'd do anything to make him happy, even if Jake deserved better than Dirk. Until someone better came along, Dirk wouldn't let anyone near his beloved angel prince. 

Angel. He reminded Dirk of the Queen, who had been decked in silver where Jake wore gold. The stars, the moonlight, the gleaming strands woven like the Milky Way through her once pitch black hair, as if the queen kept the very magic of the sky inside her and it kept spilling out. The cool hands, pulling him from the clearing, from death. The kindness and wisdom in eyes like sunlit leaves, the power that didn't have to be spoken to be recognized. Perhaps the bloodline truly was divine. 

"Dirk, look at me. You've wandered off again, come back." 

Jake's face came back into focus from the sea of gold Dirk had been slowly wading into, but Dirk still felt detached. It was only a simple, quick reverie, but he'd been feeling nervous all day. It didn't take much to steal his focus. 

"I know you're nervous, love. It's alright, I promise. We won't be announcing our courtship tonight, the ball is just the excuse for how we meet. We won't come forward about our love until you're ready. You won't be put in danger, I swear it. Trust me." Jake kissed his fingers to try and reassure him. "It's about time to head down." His eyes were blazing, with excitement or love or something else, Dirk wasn't sure. He knew it was intense enough to draw him closer to the real world, to force him to swallow and nod. 

"Of course, my lord." Jake shot him a look, and Dirk finally cracked half a smile. "Of course, Jake." He corrected himself, leaning down to peck Jake's cheek. Jake burst into a smile, and Dirk knew that while the Queen was the stars and the sky and the Milky Way, all the vast unknown, Jake was the sun and the warmth and the light that kept the world safe and turning. 

 

He wasn't allowed to hold Jake's hand on the way down to the ball- it was too risky. When they stopped just outside the huge wooden doors before the ballroom, Dirk knew not to expect a kiss or some extra encouraging words. He knew what he could expect, regardless of how little he approved and how much Jake loathed the insistence of his council to continue the tradition. 

The blindfold that was wrapped around him didn't actually do much to impede his vision- opaque blindfolds had been mandatory everyday wear for guards hundreds of years ago, but were now only ceremonial. The dress blindfolds were nearly completely see through so a guard's abilities would not be compromised, and served no purpose other than to remind others of the rank and total subservience of the guards. Jake couldn't give any reassurances just in case someone heard, but Dirk could feel the fury rolling off the prince in waves as he tested the strength of the knot. The blindfold was thin enough that he didn't miss the shining tear he couldn't wipe from his lover's face, the thick fat thing that hung like all their unspoken words before Jake brushed it away in anger. There was a pause as Jake presumably steeled himself, and then he was swinging the doors wide open for his entrance. 

Dirk kept his stance as rigid as his hair as he followed his prince into the thick of the crowd. Jake was quite the actor- the tension of a mere few moments ago forgotten or expertly masked, he was introducing himself smoothly to everyone.He kissed the hands and cheeks of some, lifted his chin and looked down his nose at others. Dirk kept his head trained straight, the translucent blindfold providing just enough cover for him to allow his eyes to lay wherever he chose. For once, that wasn't on Jake; Dirk was inspecting the more prominent visitors, and the guards scattered across the room. 

His eyes went first to the High Empress, a hulking Queen who kept her affairs extremely private. She lived far away, her jewelry, suntanned skin, seawater-curled hair and well known strong trading alliances all clueing Dirk in to assume she ruled some island or coastal kingdom. She had rounded cheeks, freckles across her warm brown skin (the same as Jake's, nearly), and large dark eyes- all features that, on anyone else, would suggest friendliness, but on the Empress reminded Dirk of the muck surrounding an impossibly deep and deadly bog. The High Empress didn't like to disclose much besides the facts she was powerful and dangerous. The heavy golden jewelry wrapped around every spare inch of skin confirmed the first. The spikes on many pieces of said jewelry, the teeth filed to points, and the trident she had refused to abandon all confirmed the second. The Empress was already imposing, over six feet tall with a sturdy, powerful stance, but the swirling fuchsia cloak that trailed for at least three feet after her magnified her to the point she was almost the focal point of the room. 

This flashy display caught Dirk's eye enough that it took him several seconds to register the two girls on either side of the Empress. Relation was instantly evident, although the two girls flanking the Empress seemed to have each taken one side of her contradicting features and fleshed them out. The girl to her left was tall, but skinny as a rail. She had almost as much jewelry as the Empress, but everything about her appearance screamed danger instead of power. Rods and hooks had been pierced into her skin, and the smile she was flashing was wicked even before her sharpened teeth were considered. Her clothes, a fitted militaristic uniform covering her from neck to ankle, also in the mysterious kingdom's color, clung tight to every sharp angle of her body. This girl- she looked like a girl, Dirk wouldn't have guessed them more than three years apart- was ready, willing, desperate to cause some trouble. 

The girl on the right was everything the girl on the left was not. She was short, fat, and looked like the sort of angel sent to bring only the most pained and miserable up to heaven. Her hair was long and flowing like the Empress's, and her dark eyes glittered with good-natured secrets- Dirk could imagine she spent her days whispering to others where the prettiest shells were, how much extra cinnamon to use in a recipe, and who had the loveliest singing voice once they could be encouraged enough to use it. She too was decked in fuchsia and gold, but colorful beaded bracelets were intermingled, along with colored and iridescent fabric swirling together in the skirt of her bell-shaped dress. Dirk couldn't help but imagine the three of them as fish- the orca, the piranha, and the angelfish. 

Either Dirk wasn't as subtle as he thought or the Empress was unusually perceptive, as within the next moment all three ladies were directly in front of Jake, flashing smiles and metal as his prince bowed low and greeted them graciously. The two younger girls barely spared him a glance, but the Empress pointedly raked her eyes down his frame after introductions were exchanged. She didn't have to be subtle, everyone in the room knew she could take absolutely anything she wanted and no one would bat an eye. 

"Whale, whale, whale. Someone's been playin dress up, now, haven't we? I don't remember you bein such eye candy the last time I saw ya." Dirk grit his teeth as cruel fingers grabbed his jaw, turning his face this way and that. He could feel tension from Jake beside him, and focused on looking as calm as possible. Jake likely expected him to feel angry or indignant. He'd be furious when he found out that all Dirk was feeling was scared, and a little accepting. This felt a lot more like the position he'd been trained for. 

"It is one of my goals as the future leader of this kingdom to bring harmony both to our foreign friends, and among the numerous ranks of Prospit's citizens. It is my personal belief that many of our common practices are outdated and dehumanizing. My guard is the prime example of ways I hope to smudge the lines that so divide our kingdom's esteemed people." 

The Empress smirked, and Dirk wondered if she could feel his pulse like this. It was fast and light, like a hummingbird a merchant had once let him hold. Dirk connected a lot with that hummingbird right now. Trapped, powerless, easily snapped in two. 

"Outdated? It's a modern approach, I'll say. Back at home, we've been focusing more on strengthening the di-fishions. Everyone fits into their place, and if people step out of that place. Whale. Things get messy, now don't they?" 

She released Dirk's chin, sneering and wiping her fingers over the inside of her cloak, as if she were wiping away much or an unpleasant texture. She may stoop to touch him, but Dirk understood it wasn't so much a sign of respect as it was an indication that royalty in her kingdom were not forbidden from unpleasantries. Her touching him wasn't an act of sullying herself, but more of an interaction with a particularly large and nasty cockroach. 

Once her hands had been deemed cleansed of Dirk's filth, the Empress took a step back and began circling her finger over one of her rings. Dirk didn't spare a glance at Jake- he didn't want to give anything away. He focused instead on the faint ringing sound that was suddenly emitting from the one of Empress's rings, trying to understand how the noise was created, and then a new person had joined their small group. 

His uniform immediately identified him as the Empress's guard. Dirk had seen the outfit before, the traditional guard's uniform of the mysterious fuchsia kingdom. He wore a tight jumpsuit in the kingdom's color, fashioned from a fabric Dirk couldn't identify with the thin blindfold obscuring his vision. The man was tall, strong and lean, but slouched and looked so beaten that he at first came off as small and frail. Despite obviously having been groomed for the occasion, his jet black hair looked lank, and a little messy. The only skin showing was from his neck up, and it wasn't a pretty sight. His face was lined and scarred, the worst being a thick 'X' across his eyes- the guard was blinded, a tradition that had been abandoned centuries ago but apparently revived by the Empress. Guards used to lose their sight so their dirty gazes couldn't sully a royal, and their tongues so their speech wouldn't infect them. The practicalities of having a guard who didn't rely on sound and vibrations to fight eventually won over the idea of a noble's utmost purity, but the removal of tongues was fairly common in many kingdoms. Even Prospit had abandoned that practice only a few dozen years ago. 

The Empress carded her fingers through her guard's hair, the way Dirk had seen nobles fawn over their pedigree pets. The fat girl looked politely uncomfortable, but the thin one leered at Dirk, daring him to show a trace of emotion. The Empress just smiled at the broken man that was her guard. The fact that she'd revived such a barbaric practice perfectly illustrated the kind of ruler she was- cruel enough to maim her own protector just to emphasize her superiority, and powerful enough to not sacrifice safety with a useless guard, because the Empress could fight for herself. It was one thing for the Empress to have gone back to mutilating her guard, but Dirk couldn't help but worry others would follow suit. Tongue cutting was disputed often in Prospit, and many surrounding kingdoms still continued the practice. Dirk would wager that perhaps half the guards here still had the power of speech. 

The Empress didn't have to say anything else, her message was clear. To her, guards held a certain rank that was not to be overstepped or promoted. Dirk could see Jake ball his fists and grit his teeth at the little show that had unfolded before them, but he couldn't say anything. The fuchsia rulers were too powerful. All they could do was hope that it didn't catch on. Not all kingdoms required guards to shadow their royals at parties, so some were milling around. Dirk could see guards from all over sitting and watching, some talking, some drinking and some even laughing. Some kept beside their royals like trained dogs, some in blindfolds of varying fabrics and thickness, some in chains. Dirk saw one in a golden leash and collar, lead by a grizzled man he recognized from a neighboring kingdom. All the nobles had guards- not all had constant watch, but everyone owned somebody. The variety was like a dog or horse show, a display of money or power or sexuality. The guards ranged from the beaten shell of a man standing in front of them to a guard freely speaking to the duchess who'd employed him. Dirk had ached for Jake's love before, for the status to publicly show his affections and the right to court Jake like a noble could. But standing here, staring at the haunted look on what was left of the other guard's face- he felt a new ache for freedom. Not just status or eligibility for Jake's public favor, but freedom. For himself and for no other purpose or person, solely for the right to be his own man who nobody could ever own like he'd seen others owned tonight. 

The Empress's pink painted lips curled up, and Dirk braced himself for cruel words to spill out. But before she could speak, the toll of a bell sounded through the hall, echoing and bringing conversations to a halt. Dirk glanced around- the sound sounded much, much closer than the bell tower, and was higher pitched than any of the bells he'd heard rung before. He couldn't find reason for the smirks that were passing between the older nobles, either, or understand why people were suddenly heading towards the rows of benches set up towards the far wall. 

"Saved by the bell, eh English? Do find me later, I'd love to speak more on Prospit's sudden progressive stances on guards. And maybe I'll throw in an offer on this pretty little one." Sharp nails skimmed along Dirk's scalp, and he could feel his heart jump up to his throat. "He'd be so pretty beside my current boy, dontcha think?" She spun Dirk round by his shoulders towards the benches, giving him a sharp pat to the bottom to urge him on his way, accompanied with a snide cackle. 

"Why, you arrogant little-" Dirk hadn't expected Jake to retaliate, not to someone as influential as the High Empress. He spun back around at the sound of his voice, just in time to see Jake march forward with his fists raised, and met an instant later with three tridents pointed at his throat. Jake had definitely thrown down the proverbial gauntlet, if any of the three women decided to attack then they couldn't be blamed for it.  
They could kill him any second just for the insult, and with their power they'd get away with it.  
Dirk wouldn't have that. 

He kicked his leg in an arc, and as soon his prince had gone down with his legs swept out from under him, Dirk had stepped over him to take his place. No one had time to react before Dirk had his sword unsheathed and resting at the side of the Empress's neck. Any one of the three women could kill him, but he'd have time to take out their Empress. Odds were against his surviving this just for the sheer disrespect shown, but he wouldn't have Jake in harm's way. The fire burning in each woman's eyes promised to burn him in a more painful way than either of her relations, but Dirk held his ground. He wouldn't make the first move, that could condemn Jake. 

Speaking of whom, had gotten to his feet and drawn his dagger, pointing it uselessly at the angelfish of the three women. Eyes were all locked on Dirk, who had let his eyes drift during the standoff. He'd taken stock of each of the weapons and their wielders, had checked to see Jake was the least likely to have something pointy thrust in his direction. Dirk knew he just had to keep still until one of the women either stood down or made a move. Curiosity seemed to only grow stronger in the face of death, so Dirk let his eyes wander to the other guard, neglected and pushed to the side during this standoff. Was he even a guard, now? He hadn't even drawn a weapon at the threat of his master. He was a dog. A button, an embellishment for the Empress and nothing more. How much was he aware of? Did he know the woman he'd devoted his life to had a blade to her neck? Would he feel sorrow if she died? He must, because why else would he have offered his service and undergone such brutal treatment? The thought only now crossed Dirk's mind that the guard's servitude may not be consensual. Perhaps he ached for nothing more than the satisfying thump of his mistress's head as it hit the cold stone floor. Dirk couldn't imagine the torture of such an existence. 

 

It wasn't the flash of steel that broke the impass. It wasn't Jake begging for Dirk's life, or action from the blinded guard, or any of the thousands of things Dirk had every muscle in his body tensed for. Nevertheless, the simplest of actions broke what had presented itself to Dirk as a standoff that could end only in death. 

A small, awkward cough. That was all. Then a hand on the Empress's elbow, belonging to a diminutive elderly man who barely came to Dirk's chest and had a head of hair so fluffy and white Dirk wondered how he didn't blow away with the wind. 

"Your highness, might I interrupt? As important as I'm sure this violence must be, our esteemed guests have traveled very far and we are all very anxious to see them perform. Can we not finish this later? Come, this is a party! Lay down your weapons, there are festivities to enjoy!" 

Dirk could barely contain the surprise on his face as the three fuchsia clad women lowered their tridents. He lowered his own sword in response, but Jake held his dagger up a moment longer before sheathing it. Dirk stepped away, the silent ruse of wanting to put distance between himself and the women covering the fact that he was stepping closer to Jake, reassuring him the only way he could. 

"Thank you, all of you. Now, let's all sit down and stop delaying the magnificent performance that the Dersians have surely prepared for us and-" 

"No." A new voice chimed in, smooth and clear with just a subtle edge. Dirk turned to find the speaker- a young woman, blonde and pale and possessing the wisest eyes Dirk had seen in his life. They were enchanting- Dirk's own eyes were unusual, but the shimmering purple in front of him was downright unnatural. Her clothes clung tight, like the fuchsia girls, but she wore a sleek purple dress and a white fur stole, a costume intended for dancing and socialization instead of battle. The hand she laid against Dirk's cheek was cold, but the action held none of the possessiveness or malice of the High Empress. The girl looked at him calculatingly, like she knew something very important about him. Dirk couldn't imagine how. He'd never seen her before. 

"No." She repeated, her voice cool like her expression and skin. "Let the others sit, I'd like to borrow this one, if your majesty-" she turned her attention to Jake, nodding respectfully. "Will allow it. I swear on my kingdom that no harm will befall him. But such a devoted guard inspires me for a story. Pray, might our brave knight step out from the shadows, for the duration of one tale at least?" 

Dirk had to grit his teeth to mask the alarmed expression that threatened to cross his face. He watched Jake through his translucent blindfold. He saw the prince glance around- at the still ruffled Empress and relatives, the tiny peacemaker, the blinded guard, the party guests all gathered on the benches pretending not to watch the conversation. Finally, he nodded. 

"Of course. It would be an honor, for one of our own to be the inspiration for the legendary Dersian storytellers. Come, the rest of us will sit." Jake bowed low, taking the girl's hand and kissing it. The lady smiled and nodded, and Jake risked throwing a concerned look back at Dirk before he took his place on the benches with the rest of his guests. 

"My name is Rose, by the way." The woman smiled at Dirk, and lay her hand out, palm facing up. Dirk stayed motionless- was it a command? Some sort of sign language from her kingdom? Derse wasn't far away by any means, yet trade with the kingdom was illegal in Prospit. Dirk wasn't sure why. Nothing negative was ever said about the Dersians, not like the Empress or other neighboring kingdoms. Derse simply wasn't mentioned, though everyone knew of the kingdom. Dirk risked making eye contact with the strange woman- she seemed the type to either respect those beneath her, or welcome a challenge. He was returned with a sympathetic expression, and the shock of her cool hand slipping into his own. That wasn't meant to happen. Jake wouldn't bow to her unless she had royal or noble standing, she shouldn't take his hand. The touch of the cheek was permissible, she was his superior and could manipulate and examine him. But this action placed them as equals, as allies. What the hell were guards treated like in Derse? 

"I am sorry, for the life offered to you here. But there is hope, yes? The kingdom of light must have some spare, even for one so unfortunate as yourself. And I've found that nothing creates a spark better than a story." 

Hearty applause sounded from the audience as the grip on his hand tightened, and Dirk found himself lead to the center of the dance floor. Rose let go of his hand once they reached the center of the floor, and the spectators fell into an anticipatory silence once again. The lighting dimmed- it was downright spooky, how each candle and oil lamp could suddenly run low, or perhaps a breeze had somehow snuck in. None of the audience members seemed surprised. Perhaps it was a common theatre trick. 

Rose smiled at her audience, her lavender eyes shining, reflective in the low light. It was as if they were lit from within, unlike anything Dirk had seen before. His intrigue only increased when Rose snapped the fingers of her left hand, and a source of light appeared- a dancing purple flame, unsourced and unconnected to any wick or other source of energy. Dirk didn't think to fight the tiny, almost imperceptible gasp. The slight twitch of Rose's pitch-painted mouth indicated that she had indeed heard his surprise. 

"Let us begin."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Sorry for the wait. I had testing and an internship and writers block. I love you guys so much I hope you keep reading! 
> 
> 2\. Yeahhhhh magic is a thing? There will be more in future chapters and it's ridiculously illegal in Prospit which is why Dirk never even mentioned it before now. It's just not a part of their lifestyle. 
> 
> 3\. The Empress, Meenah and Feferi are probably like Cajun or something, Rose is Russian. I don't even know if this is a fic any more or just a headcanon dump and place for me to play dress up. 
> 
> 4\. Fashions are crazy. Kingdoms with magic have waaayyy more modern clothes than Prospit bc ain't nothing better than the Peixes fam in jumpsuits God bless
> 
> 5\. This chapter was going to be way longer but I found a decent stopping point at my average word count, and you guys deserved a new chapter. I hope it doesn't read choppily or anything. It probably does and I may edit it in the future.
> 
> 6\. This is a super personal note but you never know. I am nearing college age and am actually looking into applying for top schools, like Emory and UPenn and planning on majoring in English. If anyone knows opportunities I can take to write some pieces with guaranteed views or ways to write and what to write on and get views and stuff or something cool like that, I would really appreciate it.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surprise bitch

"Tonight's tale begins," Rose began in a low voice, the sound snaking through Dirk and holding him unnaturally captivated. "Years ago, on a starry Summer's night." She brought the unfed purple flame to her lips and blew- the rest of the candles in the ballroom extinguished with it. Dirk prepared to be plunged into pitch darkness, but instead the room was bathed in a soft silvery glow- looking up, he saw small pinpricks of light, somewhere between here and the ceiling. Unless Rose had made the ceiling vanish to reveal the starlight. Dirk hadn't the slightest inkling of the parameters of her power. 

The storyteller blew across her hand again, and purple light once again sprung forth. Only this time instead of a small purple flame, a thick jet of it spurted forward, curling and writing across the floor like a live animal. Dirk took a step back as it rose up, twisting in on itself until it split apart into two columns, both of which almost immediately formed themselves into humanoid figures. 

"There lived a woman-" one of the figures dipped- Dirk realized the silhouette wore a dress and was curtsying. "Who lived deep in Derse's Shade Forest, for she was the most powerful dark witch the kingdom had ever seen." The Shade Forest was a massive wood said to be haunted with spirits and teeming with dark creatures and magical flora. Derse was one of the most magically advanced kingdom Dirk knew of, and dark magic was common there. The most powerful of a kingdom already formidable for the damage it could do... Dirk refused to shiver as chills ran down his spine. 

"The witch lived in the darkest part of the kingdom to collect ingredients and study the magic of her terrible and evil gods. She learned quickly, and before her old age had devised a spell that could unleash the darkest habitant of the underworld who could survive in this realm. With the right partner-" the second figure now took its own bow, then knelt in front of the woman's silhouette. "And her spell, the witch could birth not the evil itself, but what she named the 'Sunset Child'- the one who would be able to carry it. Only an unlucky number, the third generation, could harbor the evil the witch planned to release on the world." 

The figures entwined into a blazing, indistinguishable column of light- when they broke apart and regained their shape, the woman appeared to be holding a small bundle. 

"The first child was a boy. Only a daughter could carry the cursed babe, but the dark couple was not wasteful. Any offspring of theirs possessed powerful magic, and so the child was trained to be the Sunset Child's protector from the moment he could grasp a stick." Dirk watched the purple figures act out the story- the bundle growing bigger and being set on the floor, holding a weapon and growing more skilled as it grew taller. He recognized several moves, steps and swings he could execute flawlessly himself. 

"The couple immediately set forth once again in their task to conceive the Sunset Child. But word of the witch's magic had spread through Derse, and the practitioners immediately became the kingdom's most wanted. They had no choice but to flee, with only enough time to gather the ingredients for one last incantation of the spell. If their next child was not a daughter, the dark couple would be cut off from the Shade Forest and no longer possess the power to bring forth their reign of night." 

Rose paused again for the figures to tell the story. The child was scooped up and the figures fled- in their trail, more humanoid silhouettes burned up from the ground to pursue. Dirk watched the brandished swords, the flaming silhouettes of arrows flying towards the family- the man was struck and fell. The female rushed to his side, but after an unsuccessful attempt to rouse him, raised her arms to the sky. Dirk watched as the grounded figure's silhouette grew- longer hair, and a train of fabric instead of the mere outline of legs. The witch's hair simultaneously grew shorter, and when she stood the dress had disappeared from her silhouette. The child was scooped up once again as the witch fled to the edge of the dance floor, leaving her partner to be stumbled upon and surrounded by the mob- the group of purple flames burned brighter, congealed, and flickered out. 

"The witch's incantation to exchange her husband's image with her own lasted long enough for Derse to celebrate and burn the body, the kingdom breathing a sigh of relief now that the witch's terrible magic could never be unleashed. No one suspected that she had indeed escaped to a nearby kingdom- once again with child." 

The witch's silhouette once again appeared feminine, and Dirk could see the bump in her belly. Both the bump and her first child grew larger, larger, until another bundle appeared in the woman's arms- it had barely appeared before it was thrust into the elder child's arm. Dirk was unable to tear his eyes away as the woman's figure ran upwards into the air as if supported by stairs- and promptly flung herself back to the floor. The moment she hit the ground, her flames burst apart and burned out within a second. 

"Alas, this too was a boy. The witch was overcome with her grief, knowing that without the magic of her powerful lover and the Shade Forest, her work could never come to fruition. She flung herself off a cliff, leaving the babe to be raised by his older brother. The eldest passed on his knowledge of swordplay, the youngest showing equal prowess. " 

The two boys took the stage now. Dirk watched the smaller one grow large enough to walk, and begin imitating the swordplay the elder instructed. Left foot first- duck then spin, don't invert it the way they teach you in the army. That was- that was a family trick. One taught to him by his older brother. 

Dirk grit his teeth to keep his face straight. It was just a story. The storyteller, Rose, had watched him perform that move in the scuffle with the Peixes royal family, she was inspired was all. His common sense wasn't enough to counter the magic that was wrapping the feeling of dread around his heart. 

"However, the darkness the witch had fallen in love with seemed to adore the family just as much, and tragedy tailed them everywhere they went. The witch's body had been recognized, and rumors quickly returned to Derse. Our search party was sent, for if the witch had deceived us for so long before, her magic could still be alive and well. The eldest child was found and promptly dispatched, and Derse was finally satisfied in the destruction of the dark couple's practice. The youngest child remained unknown." 

Dirk felt bile rise in his throat as he watched the scene- the youngest silhouette had run to the side of the improvised stage as troops burned up from the floor again, surrounding the other son and fighting until he fell. No one could have fought their way out of that, the odds were too great. The corpse was abandoned for the child to return to. The boy stared at the body for several moments, then turned to eerily face the audience before burning away with the rest of the scene. Dirk turned his gaze to the storyteller, visible only in the dim fabricated starlight. 

"The child's fate was never discovered. Whether he survived to adulthood, whether he knew of his heritage, whether he plans to continue his parent's work- all lost until Derse's Seers learn the secrets to seeing past the remaining blocking spells the witch cast to protect herself and her family. Perhaps we will hear from him, and you shall see the rest of the story long before hearing of it from a storyteller." Rose smirked at her statement, then waved her arm to immediately dispatch the starlight and rekindle the hundreds of candles illuminating the hall. 

"Thank you! To the kingdom of Propsit, for the magic of hospitality and provision of an eager audience. To my darling bride to be, for the magic of love and dedication, misplaced as our story's lovers may have been. And thank you to my muse-" She gestured to Dirk, who stood stock still. "For the magic of the struggle of light against overpowering darkness and the reminder that good will never stop fighting." 

The crowd applauded as Rose bowed low and gestured for Dirk to rejoin the crowd. He immediately took his place at Jake's side, looking him up and down to make sure he hadn't been so much as scratched while he was on the floor. Jake didn't look at him. That was good, Dirk supposed, better not to blow their cover. The crowd began to disperse. Dirk kept out a watchful eye, but his attention was drawn to the storyteller who was now being greeted by another woman- her bride to be, he supposed. Dirk took stock of her beautifully intricate attire- her rich brown skin had darker, reddish marks along it to form dazzling patterns. Bright, gem-studded fabric wrapped around her body, a veil loosely draped over her proud face and shorn hair. She kissed Rose sweetly on the lips before speaking to her, too soft for Dirk to understand this far away. He wished Prospit would adopt some of Derse's views of appropriate royal relationships. Children were considered the most important factor of any royal union, another hurdle in the way of ever being able to call Jake his own. 

His eyes were about to flick to the next part of the room to keep guard of, when Rose's lover turned and Dirk saw the other side of her. Her fashions were symmetrical, nothing seemed different until his eyes landed on her waist and the enormous, spiked sword that hung from a belt placed there. Around the hilt lay the insignia of Derse's guard force. 

Dirk felt the shock register on his face for a moment before he masked his expression once more. The betrothed wasn't only another woman, she was a guard. Rose's guard. Rose Lalonde, ruler of Derse, one of the most powerful seers and talented storytellers in generations, had been granted a marriage with another woman. With her guard. He couldn't wait to tell Jake. Derse was a neighboring kingdom, perhaps some of their values could be integrated into Prospit and they could have a shot. 

Several guests were crowding around Rose to ask about the story. Dirk would like to know more as well. He knew very little about the storytellers, as Derse and Prospit rarely interacted except on grand occasions such as this one. But Jake was walking in the opposite direction towards the doors that lead out of the dance hall. Nobody tried to intercept him even when Jake slipped out through the enormous carved doors-  
Dirk was right beside him, completely at a loss as to where the hell Jake was going or why. He didn't have to wonder long, however, as Jake turned on him the moment he'd lead them into a hall out of earshot of anywhere close to the ballroom. 

 

"What the hell is your problem, Dirk? You could have died. A scuffle between royals is excusable, but you directly challenged one of the most powerful rulers attending this ball. She could've split your throat for much less, if Derse hadn't stepped in then she would have! Just because you've been taught to protect me doesn't mean you have to go around risking your life every time my dignity is so much as eyed contemptuously." Jake seethed at him, his fists balled and his green eyes practically glowing with anger. 

Dirk closed his mouth, which had fallen open at some point during Jake's scolding. He didn't know what to say. What was there to say? It was his job. He'd pledged his whole life above Jake's blood ever seeing the light of day, and Jake was angry about that? He didn't understand how he was meant to respond. 

"My apologies, my lord." He tried in a weak, confused voice. 

"You're not sorry." Jake narrowed his eyes at him again. "Dammit, Dirk! What is it going to take for you to learn a shred of self preservation?! Has it truly never occurred to you how much it would hurt me if I lost you? You barely survived those ruffians in the clearing, darling, I can't- I'd be so alone without you, Dirk. Gran's getting on, and you're the only one who keeps me sane around here. There are people who'd marry me off to some nasty ruler who'd pay grand amounts for connections to Prospit, or some young sweet thing who'd waste away here with their heart left back in their own kingdom. You're the only person besides Gran who actually cares about me, without you there's nobody. Why can't you understand that you're more than this job? Your blood is worth just as much as mine, Dirk, and I can't bear it that you keep saying you mean nothing, and you don't bat an eye when they hurt you, and I'm so afraid that one day you're not going to get back up-- fuck-" Jake pressed his fists to his eyes, the tears easily audible in his voice. 

Dirk felt awful. Guilt had a hold on his stomach like a starving dog holds onto a slab of meat. Jake was crying and it was his fault. He realized that he wasn't just protecting Jake from physical threats- as long as Jake loved him, he had a mysterious lover to allude to to keep him from an unhappy marriage. If Dirk died, Jake was right and he'd be married to the highest bidder. Not to mention, he didn't trust anyone else to guard Jake half as well as he did. Dirk took half a step forward to hug him before he stopped. Maybe Jake didn't want that right now, he was angry and crying and maybe disgusted with Dirk for hurting him-

"Don't be such an ass, Dirk." Jake had seen the aborted attempt for a hug and dragged Dirk closer, burying his head in Dirk's chest and wrapping his arms around his waist. Dirk draped his arms over Jake's back, stroking through his fluffed hair with his long slender fingers. He kissed the top of Jake's head, the way he'd seen mothers do to comfort their crying children. Jake seemed to relax a bit, the stiffness leaving him as Dirk stroked through his thick black hair and held him close. He felt Jake angle his head, listening to the beat of his heart inside his chest. 

"I am sorry." He murmured, lips brushing against Jake's forehead. "I shall try and learn to value my own life. I forgot how much you would be affected without me." 

Jake sighed, his grip tightening around Dirk's hips as he shook his head, but he didn't pull away from Dirk's chest. "Dammit, Strider. I want you to value your life for your own sake, not just mine." 

"I shall work on that, too." 

They stood there for a long while, Jake buried in Dirk's chest and Dirk stroking his hair, occasionally pressing a sweet kiss into his hair while Jake took his time to just breathe him in and calm down now that they were both okay. 

"I don't want to go back." Jake finally broke the silence. "I want to be with you, without hiding it."

Dirk didn't say anything. The two of them were excellent at communicating without words, almost better than they were with them. Jake knew this silence- it meant that they /should/ go back, that there may be trouble and that this wasn't proper behavior. But it also meant that Dirk wasn't going to stop him, because he didn't always like the rules either. 

Jake finally pulled back, tangling his fingers with Dirk's and gently tugging him along. "Come on," he was heading down the hall, towards one of the servant's exits that wouldn't be guarded. "You're going to teach me about the outside world."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) it's been 84 years.... (I'm sorry) 
> 
> 2) haha yeah magic exists. It's ridiculously illegal for Dersians, to the point where royals don't really talk about it except to punish criminals. You'll see fam
> 
> 3) please still love me even though its been 84 years


	14. Chapter 14

“I don’t want to go home. Not tonight.”

“Then don’t.”

Dirk turned to head to look at Jake. Bathed in silver moonlight, he looked like his grandmother when she had recovered Dirk from the clearing. Jake was darker skinned than his grandmother, with no silver hair to reflect the moonlight, and his green eyes that didn’t shine as brightly. Dirk could get lost in him, and wanted to.

Jake turned to face him, eyebrows slightly raised.

“Really? You’d let me stay here?”

Dirk felt a blush rising to his cheeks; he averted his gaze and nodded. Jake was silent for several minutes, until he finally brushed Dirk’s hand with his own; nervously, Dirk turned his palm upwards and felt Jake tangle their fingers together.

“What are you thinking, Dirk?”

Dirk turned his head again, resting on his cheek to take in Jake, who was staring back at him.

“I’m thinking about the stars, how I was watching them that night in the clearing. How I remember they glinted from the Queen’s hair, how I thought she might be an angel. And how you’ll have gray hair one day, too, and the light will glint off it the same way, and how I hope I’ll be there to see it. Now it doesn’t glint off you, you’re too young and your hair has all its color. It just...shines on you, and you glow. Like a pearl.” Dirk rolled to be on his side, his free hand coming up to trace over Jake’s lips. “One of the rare, dark pearls, the ones that seem to give off their own light instead of just reflecting it, the ones sailors sell to your palace jewelers. But you’re always more beautiful than any of the riches I’ve seen in your castle.”

Jake kissed the thumb resting against his lips, batting his long eyelashes sweetly at him. 

“You should write your musings down, Strider. You’d make a poet that could rival half the library. Maybe you could write down these thoughts of yours for me one day? And I could have a piece of you even when we are apart, and after we are married we could publish them, and after we are gone the whole world will still know the nobility that lived inside you, and that status has no effect on one’s intelligence or talent with artful words. I myself can’t string together a couplet, and you... you’re blushing, Dirk.”

“I. It’s only. You often speak of marriage. Sometimes I can’t help but blush. Just, imagining myself your groom. I promised myself years ago to be your loyal servant, even surpassing spousal devotion. And it is no secret to you that I love you, would die for you, adore you. And yet marriage still seems unattainable. Not just because of your court, or my status, but because... I can’t imagine what might be left. If I was yours to death, tied to you beyond this world, what else could I want? To wake every day at your side, kiss your cheek with the doors and windows wide open where the whole world could look upon us, wipe any tear that dared pass beyond your eye... I may as well have died at our wedding altar, there’s nothing left for me in Heaven or Elysium or Nirvana. I can only pray for my soul to expire with my body, as no pleasures in the afterlife could be as sweet as your hand, and I fear that at death you might go where I cannot follow. Wearing your ring would outshine any other promises, there’s nothing left for religion to promise me. My words are sacrilege under the new laws of religion, I know, which is why they should only fall upon your ears, never to the same paper that may be better used to teach students the good laws of religion or academics that may be useful to them in this life. No one else should hear my words, my lord, because what would be left for them? I would have left you to one who shared your status if I believed there was a single person on this earth that might love you as much as I do. My love is for you, and you alone, not for those who may imitate it and lose themselves in this unholy devotion, or read of my feelings and think that they should love as I do, and feel inferior that they cannot. I feel we’ve stolen all the love in the world to share between ourselves, there’s no use letting the rest of the world know. They won’t understand. I blush because I know I should be ashamed of all these feelings, and still the blood in my cheeks is fueled only by a heart that thinks of nothing but you, and you, and my love for you, and my devotion to you.”

Dirk stopped himself when he noticed that tears had gathered in Jake’s eyes. He sat up and leaned over him to brush them away, but Jake caught his hands and kissed them again, his eyes squeezing shut and the tears escaping down his temples and into his hair.

“Don’t cry, Jake. I’ll stop. I talk too much, a habit from my youth I thought I had curbed, but if anyone is worthy of a flood of words, it’s you. I’ll stop, Jake, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Jake laughed softly and sat up himself, now leaning his forehead on Dirk’s. He could smell the sugar icing from cakes at the ball on Jake’s breath, and it took effort not to close the distance between them. Dirk kept still, his eyes half closed as Jake rubbed their noses together and tangled his fingers in his hair. Jake started running his fingers through it, and Dirk could feel the salve put in it to make his hair hard and stiff to stay in a slightly unnatural yet striking style for the ball start to give way.

“You haven’t upset me, darling. I’m just emotional. You’re so beautiful, and your words promise that your soul is just as striking as your face, and I can’t believe I’m so lucky to have something so beautiful call himself mine. You talk of palace treasures, Dirk, but I’d trade it all for you. I wish I could, just run away from it all, and just live with you, in a little hut with burlap sacks for a bed and nights we could spend looking at the stars. And I’d never let you stop talking, it’s a crime already for the world to have lost so many of your words. In the palace, when we are married, you’ll speak as much as you like, but I wish... I wish it were just us. Just our love, bigger than everything else in the world, and the stars, and you, and no stupid laws and rules and courtiers.”

Dirk felt a strand of hair fall forward and rest on his cheek. Once Jake worked the stiffness from it, it would be the first time he’d seen him without his hair tied back from his face. He had the feeling that that was actually Jake’s goal; his administrations seemed to be focused on the stiffest strands, instead of just idle affections. It was almost like Jake was undressing him, pushing away the style of royal balls or practicality, to see Dirk’s hair loose and free.

Like they wanted to be.

“Jake.” He breathed it, and Jake seemed pulled into a kiss the same way wheat stalks in the wind couldn’t help but brush against one another, gentle and golden and natural as anything. He returned it, tasting sugar and wine and letting his hands rest on Jake’s waist. The summer was dying, and the air was just warm enough to not chill, and Dirk could feel the heat from Jake’s skin through the layers of fine palace silk.

It was hard to pull apart.

 

“Let’s leave it all behind, then.” He saw the sadness immediately enter Jake’s eyes- he couldn’t abandon his position, not with his grandmother aging, not with all the corruption among the other nobles. Dirk shook his head to clear Jake’s worries.

“Not forever. Just tonight. We’ll return in the morning, the kingdom won’t fall in a night. Just... will you stay? Just us, and the stars, and a humble servant’s home. I’d wonder how such peasantry could please you, but now I believe our love transcends the earth, and this world means so little in comparison that it matters not what surrounds us. Will you stay, Jake? We’re just as in love here as the palace, but here there’s no one to hide it from. I don’t ask much of you, but if you grant me one request, stay.”

“You’re romantic in the starlight, Strider. I’ll never love the sun again, it chases you away like the stars.” He smiled at him, then laid his head on Dirk’s chest. Dirk wrapped his arms around him and Jake swung his legs so he could sit in his lap, and they were still. He didn’t push for an answer. If Jake wanted to leave, Dirk wouldn’t stop him. For now, he was staying. It was them, and the stars, and Dirk’s heartbeat in Jake’s ear and Jake’s breath against his collarbones under the unfamiliar silk.

  
“Are you religious, Dirk?”

Dirk looked down, slightly surprised at the question. They’d been silent for several minutes, and he wasn’t sure where the question had come from.

“I wish I could tell you that I’m holy. But I have no god that I trust to hear my prayers, though I admit I sometimes pray in the hopes that something is listening and has pity for someone so forsaken. I have no religious law to guide me, no promised afterlife to soothe the grief for my brother, my parents, my own soul when it departs. My soul belongs to you, damnable as it may be.”

“Your soul belongs to yourself, Dirk. If you have given it to me, I treasure and protect it, but only with the knowledge that I am protecting what belongs to my dearest love, not something of my own.”

“Alright, my soul is my own, entrusted to you. And my immortal soul? Who lays claim to it?”

“I don’t know. For all my education, I’m not especially clever. I don’t know where souls go, what determines them worthy or unworthy, or upon what grounds. I’m not concerned about the afterlife. I know I’m no more saint than you, so we will either ascend or burn together, and that’s what’s important.” He looked back up at Dirk and reached for his hair again. The night had brought forth dew, and the moisture to the air had worked the rest of the stiffness from Dirk’s hair. It fell to frame his face, and Jake wrapped a strand around his finger. For some reason, it made Dirk breathless. It felt intimate, and close, like the natural fall of his hair in Jake’s presence was another barrier removed between them.

“I’m not so concerned with souls right now, Dirk. Mine is entwined with yours, I shan’t be lonely even if we are cast out of eternity. I was asking for your religion because I want to know the laws you might hold for your body.”

“My body? I keep it clean, to keep away disease and filth. I keep it healthy, to fend off death. I keep it strong, to protect you. No god has given me a word on how to keep my body.”

“Keep it, no. And sharing it?”

 

Dirk felt his breath stop in his lungs.

So that was why Jake had asked.

He could feel Jake’s eyes on him as the blood rushed to his face, and he had to look away from the earnest green eyes that bore into him. Out over his rooftop, out at the garden and the dirt path that gave way to stone. Out at the trees, the sky, the stars. The world that didn’t matter, the world that may as well be condensed to Jake’s breath ghosting over his skin and their warm bodies pressed together.

He understood now the silence that had taken its time when he’d asked Jake to stay. He couldn’t answer, not immediately. The sentiment he needed to convey was already decided, he’d settled on an answer the moment Jake had asked. But the words needed time to form. They were sharing themselves, baring a new part of their souls, and it took time. Dirk had learned as a boy that prying a flower’s petal open to reveal the bloom never produced the same beauty that came when he waited and returned to the plant day after day to see the gradual growth and spread of the petals until the whole thing was revealed to the world. This was like those flowers, the leaves needed time to open, the nectar of his soul he fully planned on gifting to Jake needed the few extra minutes to mature.

  
“My darling, I promised my body to you when I took my oath as your guard.”

“You promised your life and to sustain any wounds that may befall you. I hope you wouldn’t call this a wound.”

“No, I wouldn’t. It’s...sharing my soul. A physical act, but rooted in something that no sword could penetrate. I never promised you my soul in my oath as your guard. But my soul is yours. Or our souls are one, they are intertwined, connected and inseparable and indistinguishable. And if our souls are such, so should our bodies be.”

  
Jake kissed him then. It was more heated than any of the gentle ones they’d exchanged earlier, yet still held no trace of roughness. There was passion, though, and some feeling that Dirk didn’t have a name for that swelled and coiled in his chest as Jake straddled his lap and rose to his knees, forcing Dirk to crane his neck upwards as Jake progressed to almost devouring him. He was stunned to find that Jake wasn’t the only one losing himself; Dirk felt the same heat and growing desperation in the movements of his own lips, felt slippery silk beneath his palms and pearly buttons under his fingers as he peeled at Jake’s collar, so he could press kisses from his throat to his collarbones, once again stopped by the thick fabric before he could venture any lower. He didn’t dare reveal any more of Jake’s flawless skin- not on the roof, not when anyone but himself could lay eyes on it.

“Dirk.” Jake’s voice was a whisper, not hoarse, but quiet and insistent. This moment was for them, the night air didn’t deserve the sweet nothings that passed between them. “Don’t stop. No one’s... there’s no affection in the castle. Nothing, no soft hand or warm touch, just gloved handshakes...please, darling. Please, please...”

He looked up to see Jake’s eyes once again shining with tears, like dew settled on the wild grass that grew darker than the stuff that was well maintained within the palace walls. His poor, beautiful prince. Dirk couldn’t touch, the sensation was openly forbidden. But Jake could, and yet no one would grant him even the smallest comfort. Unlike Dirk, Jake could _want_ for touch, could be tantalizingly close and still constantly denied.

He wrapped his arms around Jake again and pulled him close. Jake buried his head in Dirk’s shoulder, his tears burning hot as they left his eyes and his crown digging into the thin skin on Dirk’s neck. He didn’t care. He ran his hands over Jake’s back and kissed his temple; he needed Jake to feel safe, to feel loved, to feel his touch.

“I’m here.” He whispered, his voice just barely hoarse with pain at the realization of just how lonely his darling prince was. “I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. You’ll never be alone again, I promise.”

 

  
He brought Jake down the ladder back to his hut, leaving the skylight open so the starlight could shine in, and he didn’t have to light lanterns. He fussed over the burlap sacks- it wasn’t fit for a prince, and even his spare wool blankets he used in winter didn’t come close to the downy mattress Jake used in the castle. He was getting obsessive, he could feel the thoughts of Jake leaving his mind and the thought of ‘ _themattressisn’tgoodenough_ ’ taking over, until he felt Jake touch his elbow and gently pull him a few steps away.

“Dirk. Am I in love with a goose feathered mattress?”

“I...”

“Darling, no. I’m in love with you. You, and your wooden floors and your burlap sacks. If you were a king with a house of gold, I’d love you the same. What you own is not a part of you.” Jake reached up and plucked the crown from his head, flinging it to the side- it gave a tinny clang as it bounced into the corner. Dirk started and leapt towards it- the crown was _never_ meant to touch the floor, it had to be given the utmost care. Nobody could touch it but royalty, those who dressed them, and the cleaners, and they wore special gloves anyways, and now it was on his _floor_ -

“ _Dirk_. It’s a piece of gold.” Jake had him by the elbows again, and touched his fingers to Dirk’s chin to have him look him in the face. “That’s all it is. It’s not a part of me. You are. Kiss me again, won’t you?”

 

He did. He cradled Jake’s face and pulled him into a kiss, Jake melted against him and wrapped his arms around Dirk’s neck. Dirk let his fingers fumble with pearl buttons again, until he could slide the heavy silk fabric to floor and slide his hands over the broad expanse of Jake’s toned chest. Jake shivered and pressed closer, Dirk sat and pulled Jake with him under the cotton sheets.

  
He learned, that night, that voices were more than just words. It wasn’t what Jake said, not the things whispered to the stars between the cotton sheets, but the way they were said. The sighs, the moans, his name repeated and repeated like he was something holy; he understood why Jake was so set on him speaking. Words were one thing, they were thoughts, but thoughts could be written or signed or conveyed in a hundred different ways. This, the words and the breaths and the things that were both and neither, those weren’t thought. They were feelings, passion, their very souls bared to each other and to the stars. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi im not dead

**Author's Note:**

> First work, so I hope it is well received. Feedback appreciated :). Also written and posted from mobile, so please forgive formatting errors.


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